Only The Young
by TheAlmightyDork
Summary: A prince of a nation spiraling into war found what he believes to be the key to victory; a small, amnesiac girl with skills and abilities beyond measure. However, she is hunted by forces both human and none. Chrom must defend his new charge at all cost, or risk the extinction of the human race. All the while, a mysterious stranger slays their way to the Shepherds, motives unknown.
1. Chapter 1

"Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING!" a young woman said, staring down at the tiny form before her.

"I know..." the one known as 'Chrom' answered, running a hand through his blue hair.

In the peaceful field in which they stood alongside their personal guard, Frederick, were the siblings Chrom and Lissa. Both wore regal clothing, Chrom having body armor with a formal design and Lissa a yellow dress that matched her twin-tail, blonde hair. Frederick was in a bulky, obviously uncomfortable armor that would have powdered a lesser man's bones. Despite this, he seemed perfectly adjusted to it. That or he merely never brought up any issue with it. Both seem plausible.

However, their attention was more focused on the small child laying unconscious on the ground than their attire.

The child was a small girl, no older than seven. She wore a dark purple robe that looked well-made, despite none of the party knowing the standards of the foreign clothing. For all they knew it meant a mark of shame for some heinous crime or something. Her hair was shoulder length and a light gray, a strange color for such a tiny thing. In her small hands was a tattered stuffed cat, which she clung to with an iron grip.

"Poor thing..." Lissa said aloud to herself.

"No word of a missing child in any of the previous villages, my lord," Frederick began in a business-minded tone. "Perhaps she is a resident of the one not far down the road?"

"Perhaps," Chrom said simply. One thing struck him as odd about the girl. Mainly, the robes. They looked quite alien, yet familiar. He was sure that he recognized the style somewhere before...

"Mmmph..." the girl winced before rolling to her side, clutching the stuffed animal in her hands tightly to her chest.

"Do you think she's just taking a nap?" Frederick offered, a slight hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I doubt a child would be allowed to wander out this far from home and fall asleep in a field," Chrom reasoned. He was half tempted to shake the small one awake, they had little time to waste on a kid who fell asleep! Yet, he could not get the courage to do so. Mainly because he was sure she would start crying. Emmeryn had enough problems dealing with their father's reputation. She should not be crushed under rumors of her 'child-hating' brother.

"Do you think she ran away?" Lissa offered, trying to find a reasonable explanation to everything. Her feet were beginning to ache as the massive amount of walking she had done that day finally took its vengeance on her. She cursed her brother for teasing her for not being 'hardened for adventure'.

"More than likely," said Chrom, forgoing his previous thoughts and shaking the girl by the shoulder.

The child grimaced in her sleep before slowly opening her eyes. Each lid rose as slowly as the sun each morning to reveal a pair of almond brown eyes. The lids threatened to close for a second time before immediately shooting open, something shocking the poor girl out of a chance of rest. She slowly rose to her feet, her hands wrapped around her stuffed toy the entire time. The young child turned to the three figures towering over her, each one causing her to clam up and stare at the ground, not saying a single word.

"Hello!" Chrom began with a cocky smile and his 'regal' voice, "Do you know who we are?"

The girl continued to stare at the ground, hugging her toy closer to her.

Chrom fumbled to another way to greet the girl. He was never good with kids...

"Yes..." he began again, "We are the Shepherds!"

Not a word came from the girl once again.

"We are the legendary he-!"

"Give it a rest, Chrom!" Lissa interrupted, shoving a hand in his face as she bent down to the girl's level. "Hello there," Lissa began gently, "what's your name?"

Silence once again answered her, but she saw the smaller female visibly relax.

"My name's Lissa," she pointed to herself. "That was my dumb big-brother, Chrom." She pointed to the blue-haired man who rolled his eyes at his sister's comment.

The girl looked up from the ground for a moment before shooting her eyes back down, her face turning bright red.

"That's a cute toy you have there!" Lissa said with a smile, pinching the cat on one of its ears. "What did you name him?"

"...ki..." The girl mumbled out.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Lissa asked again, her tone remaining calm and kind.

"Kitty," the girl said, now clear enough for them all to hear, "her name is Kitty."

"That's a cute name!" Lissa scratched under the *cat's* chin.

This caused the girl to give a small, but noticeable, smile.

"So what's your name?" Lissa continued her line of questioning, still keeping the same aura of affection.

"R-Robin..." The girl said shyly, once again clutching the toy to herself.

"That's a pretty name," Lissa gave a nod, as if to confirm her statement, and gently ruffled the girl's hair.

This action caused a giggle to slip out of the tightly sealed lips of Robin, who went back to staring at her feet.

"See! Not all grown ups are mean," Lissa said, sticking her tongue out to her brother.

"This is all well and good," Frederick interjected, "but we must get a move on, my lord."

Lissa got to her feet and faced the two. Out of nowhere, she felt a sudden weight attach itself to her leg. She looked down to see Robin, clinging on to her for dear life. Despite her attempts to move, the surprisingly heavy child kept her pinned in her spot, unable to move.

"Robin," Lissa began, chuckling nervously, "can you please let go?"

Despite this, she kept her grip the same.

"Please?"

No physical change could be felt.

"_Pretty_ please?"

"N-No!" Robin said, to the surprise of the party. She was visibly shaking, and almost on the verge of tears. She began sniffling, and her eyes were dotted with tears.

"W-What's wrong?" Chrom felt himself begin to panic. He could deal with psychotic bandits attempting to turn his skull into a cereal bowl. But crying kids? He may as well have been a knight fighting a dragon with wooden armor. He could lead thousands of young soldiers to fight with him to their last breath, but could just as easily say one thing and cause a baby to immediately begin crying.

"I-I'm scared!" Robin admitted, burying her face into the back of Lissa's leg. "Don't leave me alone!"

"We are not going to simply leave you here," Frederick said, his tone sounding harsh. "We are going to the nearby village, and find your parents."

"I-I..." Robin began, losing her voice before once again hiding behind Lissa.

"Yes?" Chrom inquired. He could tell something was distressing the girl ever since she woke up. The way her eyes shot open when she awoke was saying something she was too afraid to say herself.

"I-I can't remember anything..." Robin began sobbing.

"What?" Lissa asked, gently placing her hand on the crying girl's head.

"I can't remember where I live..." Robin answered again. "I want to go home, but I don't know where it is!"

"I've heard of this!" Lissa realized as she shot her gaze to the others. "It's called amnesia!"

"Why would a little girl have amnesia?" Frederick scratched his chin with a hand as he pondered the answer.

"It does not matter." Chrom approached the girl, lowering to a knee. "We will help find your family, I promise." With that, he gave a cheesy grin, attempting to comfort the distressed girl.

"Y-You promise?" Robin managed to cease her sobbing, but only barely. A few occasional sniffles snuck past her without realizing it.

"I promise." Chrom gave a more genuine smile, much warmer and serious than the last.

"Can you promise Kitty?" Robin stuck the stuffed cat in the man's face, giving him the classic 'puppy-dog-eyes'.

"... You're serious?" Chrom asked, hoping that he wouldn't really have to-

"P-Please?"

-make a promise with a damned stuffed toy...

With a heavy sigh, he said, "I promise."

"You have to say her name. She won't believe you if you don't."

_I feel like such an idiot..._

"I promise... _Kitty_."

* * *

With that, the party (now including Robin), made their way to the nearby village. The simple, dirt road scraped against their shoes, the crunching falling into a sort of rhythm with their steps. The weather was, luckily, pleasant. Not too warm, and not too cold, with a clear, blue sky above them.

Robin clung to Lissa for the entirety of the walk, not even trying to get close to Frederick or Chrom. Both of which were in the midst of a heated conversation.

"Frederick," Chrom said deadpanned, "she's a little kid. I highly doubt she's a spy."

"My lord, that could be her plan!" Frederick 'reasoned' from atop his horse, stealing glances at the girl.

"So a six year old may be planning to kill me?" Chrom rubbed his eyes. Sometimes his personal guard, and good friend, could be a little too _overzealous_ in regards to his safety.

"_Seven_ year old!" Frederick argued. "That distinction could be the death of you, my lord!"

"Frederick," Chrom began in a sympathetic tone, "did your mother drink while she was with child?"

"Only for my brother," Frederick said in a proud tone, "that is why he drools and tries to hug everyone."

"That's... really sad actually..." Chrom said, wide-eyed.

The rest of the walk held an awkward atmosphere...

* * *

It was just a few miles away from the closest village when Chrom noticed something in the air.

"Halt!" he called to the others, stopping them dead in their tracks.

"What is it, Chrom?" Lissa asked, worry filling her voice. She recognized the tone her brother had used. It was one he always spoke in before a battle.

"Smell the air," Chrom ordered simply, still facing his back to the party. He withdrew his sword, Falchion, from its holster. The scrap of the metal caused Robin and Lissa to wince.

Frederick was the first to notice.

"Is that... _smoke_?"

The acrid sent flooded the air, choking the life out of the small group. The thick, heavy, and hot air meant only one thing.

"We have to move, **now**!" Chrom ordered, already in a sprint.

"My lord, wait!" Frederick called, his steed going at full speed, following his charge.

"Guys!" Lissa tried to call for them to no avail. She knew blindly rushing in was going to get someone killed. But she had _another _issue to deal with. Her eyes drifted to the child who once again clung to her leg. Lissa knew she couldn't just abandon Robin there, running off to help her friends.

"..ba-.." Robin mumbled something to herself, not allowing Lissa to see her face.

"What was that?" Lissa felt a ball of ice in her stomach. Something about what Robin tried to say made her body go cold. She couldn't say why, but she felt like she needed to just let it go; just run for her friends. Robin, however, said something that hit her like a carriage at full speed.

"Bad tactics." Robin stared straight ahead, almost like she was in a trance. "Need a plan." Her wide expression caused shivers to go down Lissa's back. The way she spoke sounded nothing like the shy little girl they had met not even three hours earlier. Her voice was monotone, yet held an icy quality to it. She sounded more like a machine than a human being.

"R-Robin?" Lissa grabbed the girl's shoulders, trying to snap her out of the strange trance. She lightly shook Robin, giving light smacks to her cheeks every few shakes.

"I have to go..." Robin sounded like a husk, no emotion whatsoever no matter where you looked. She moved her tiny legs forward, though she was blocked by Lissa. That did not stop her from trying, her feet still trying to carry her body towards the direction Chrom and Frederick ran off to.

"No! It's too dangerous!" Lissa tried to hold onto the small child, but she lost her grip and Robin slipped right through. Before she could react, Robin burst into a powerful sprint, already being out of sight before Lissa got to her feet.

"_What the hell...?_"

* * *

"By the Gods!" Chrom swore as he looked upon the burning village.

Bandits flooded the streets, butchering anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. The simple, wooden buildings turned into blazing infernos from the bandits' torches. Each one gave bellowing laughs as they pillaged the simple homestead, setting everything alight and stealing everything not nailed down... including the nails.

"My lord," Frederick said as he caught up to his hot-headed friend, "what do you suggest we do?"

"We kill the dastards, that's what!" Chrom wore an enraged sneer as he readied his sword, prepared to slice a few of the brigands in two.

"We need a _plan _if we are going to kill anyone," Frederick held his spear in front of the young man, blocking his progress, "we can't just run in and start swinging."

"Fine!" Chrom scanned the area around him. The stalls could provide adequate cover from arrows, and allow them to surprise a few bandits if they were careful. There looked to only be around eight or nine, certainly enough for the two to handle. He could see the leader in the distance, a large, burly man who had his hands on a young village woman who shrieked in fear, begging for help.

"You draw their attention," Chrom began, "I take out the leader."

"As you wish, my lord." Frederick could not help but smirk.

* * *

"_Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!_"

Lissa ran as fast as she could, trying to catch up to Robin. She screwed up bad! She was gonna get in so much trouble!

She felt the air get hotter as she approached the village, burning brightly. The acrid scent was making her light-headed, her vision getting hazier. Still, she pushed past it. She had to find Robin!

Something made her lose her footing. She stumbled to the ground, landing face first. The pain was insignificant, but she was unprepared. The shock in her system was enough to launch her hands to her face, trying to catch the blood spilling from her nose.

"_Now I know how Sumia feels..._"

The thought was quickly extinguished from her mind when she saw what she tripped over.

It was one of the bandits, dead. He was a large, bear-like man with enough hair to confuse a wild animal. His face was a frozen expression of shock, emulating his last moments. The large slash against his stomach, still pouring out red, told Lissa who it was that killed him.

"_Good, I'm close to Chrom._"

The thought gave her relief, but she still needed to find Robin! She was stuck in the middle of this insanity!

"Lissa!" she heard a familiar voice call out to her. She turned to see Frederick riding to her, clutching his arm to his side. "Thank the Gods, I found you!"

"Fr-Frederick," Lissa began in a panic, "Have you seen Robin!?"

"What," Frederick went wide-eyed, "she's missing!?"

"After you guys left, she started acting all weird and ran off towards here!" Lissa held her staff and summoned a healing spell to fix Frederick's arm. The snapping and crunching of bone made her feel slightly queasy, something Frederick shared with her.

"What do you mean 'acted weird'?" Frederick felt a burst of anger flood his system. He knew they should not have trusted that girl! She was working with the bandits to buy them time!

"She talked funny and looked like she was in a trance." Lissa was having trouble keeping her patience. Frederick was wasting their time when they should have been looking for Robin!

"We have to find her," Frederick began, his tone cold and cruel, "she needs to tell us what the hell is going on."

"A-Alright!" Lissa gripped her staff, a look of determination on her face.

"Okay," Frederick gripped her shoulder sympathetically, "I know you must be scared. But remember that you did nothing wrong."

"Wh-What?" Lissa stared at Frederick in confusion.

"Taking a life is no light burden, believe me," Frederick gestured to the corpse Lissa fell over earlier, "but it was necessary."

"Wh-Whoa!" Lissa threw her hands up, "I didn't kill him! I thought you guys did!"

"No," Frederick furrowed his brow, "we have not made it to this part of town yet. I only came here because I heard you scream for the girl."

"_W-Was I screaming...?_" The thought made Lissa go red in the face. Something about the mental image was so... _embarrassing_.

"Do you think...?" Frederick trailed off, unable to completely voice his statement. Lissa managed to get the message though.

"What, a _kid_ take out a guy like that?" Lissa pointed to the corpse. The thought was ridiculous!

* * *

"_Damn... Got carried away!_"

Chrom cursed himself as he gripped his side, keeping pressure on his wound. Blood poured from his side as he held his sword up with his free hand. It was nothing too serious as long as he got to Lissa, but that was determined by whether he could lob off the bandit chief's head before he bled out.

"Bwahahahaha!" the large bandit bellowed out, raising his large, crude, war ax to strike. "Nobles 're so damned fun! Nothin' bu' pre'y boys with fancy swords!"

Chrom fully admitted that he underestimated his opponent. He assumed the bandit was nothing more than a common thug, the type who ran at the first second of combat with a _real _opponent. So he used the more _flashy _moves, the ones made to scare instead of kill. The ones a real soldier could block like it was second nature.

"_Damned fool! Remember your training!_"

His sword shook with every hit the bandit delivered. Each one made the bones in Chrom's arm bend, becoming worse with every swing.

"_A bandit shouldn't be this powerful!_"

The thought repeated in his head over and over. He had killed hundreds of bandits, each one being nothing more than child's play. But this chief was different. He knew when to parry, _what _to parry, how to block, how to keep himself on his feet. Everything a normal bandit _couldn't _know... unless...

"You've been trained!" Chrom said aloud, taking a swing at the bandit, who easily blocked the strike. The two pressed their weapons against each other, their blades sending sparks with every centimeter they moved.

"Took ya long enough t' no'ice!" The bandit laughed once again, giving a swift kick to Chrom's groin.

The strike was able to drop Chrom to his knees, unable to block such a sudden and _dirty _attack.

"Bu' where I'm from, we don't waste no time on any _honor _bullshit!" The bandit raised his ax above his head, ready to strike. "As long as yer enemy's dead, ya win!"

Chrom tried to raise his sword, but a violent shock of pain kept it paralyzed. He looked down to see something just barely jutting out of the skin. Blood started to spill from the spot, enough to make his grip loose and unsteady.

"_Damn... he got me..._"

Chrom closed his eyes, waiting for the strike. Nothing he could do could prevent the ax from hitting him. His legs felt like gelatine, his muscles practically screaming. The adrenaline from earlier was wearing off, making him feel like his body weighed a million tons.

"Will you just get it over wi—huh?" Chrom opened his eyes, noticing how long the bandit was taking. But now he understood why.

The bandit was dead, a bronze sword sticking out of his chest, someone impaling him from behind. The bandit fell to his knees, his hand gripping the blade.

"Damned... nobles..." the bandit chief choked out, "ya... got me..."

With that, the bandit fell face first onto the ground, the sword sliding out on the way. A puddle of dark red covered the ground from the freshly made corpse.

But the whole while, Chrom could only look to the killer, his savior.

"Robin...?"

He stared in a mix of horror and astonishment as the small child dropped the sword, the weapon clattering on the paved road. The girl ran to Chrom, wrapping her tiny arms around his chest.

He could only hear her say one thing before she fell asleep against him.

"_Daddy_..."

* * *

_A/N_

What is up, everybody? This is Plague with a _new _story. Jeez, I have ADD or something, don't I?

Anyway, I decided to write this because I saw a vast amount of FE:A retellings, most being novelizations of the game or slight changes. You know, like Robin having his/her memory when they join; or they focus on the romance between two characters; etc.

Well, a thought occurred to me one day. "It'd be cool to see Robin as something _drastically _different than when they meet him/her."

So I had two choices really stick with me:

A) Have Robin be a little kid.

Or

B) Have Robin be like Casca from Berserk (post-eclipse). AKA: Stark raving insane and unable to even talk.

Little kid one sounded more fun, because I can torture certain characters with it; and because I'm a big ol' softie who thinks kids are cute... DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!

But yeah, that's pretty much the story. Robin is a little kid instead of an adult, and the ramifications of that. Because you _know _that there are ethical issues of using a kid as a soldier. So that should be fun.

Until next time, this has been Griped telling you to fuck money and make bitches, children.


	2. Chapter 2

The town had recovered just as quickly as it had been destroyed. The fires were put out, the rubble cleared as best they could, and the dead buried from the attack.

The Shepherds had stayed a few days, overseeing the repair and resting from the exhausting ordeal. Though, they were mainly waiting for a certain child to reawaken from her deep sleep.

"My lord," Frederick said, laying his back against the wall of the quaint room of the quaint inn they stayed in during the recovery. Chrom sat next to the bed that held Robin, who had still been asleep ever since the battle ended. "We do not have the luxury to delay any longer. We have to get to the capital, or we are surely going to cause an issue."

"I know that," Chrom said, never taking his eyes off the small girl, "I just want some answers."

"We all do," Lissa added, walking into the room with a tray holding a teapot and three small cups, "but we can take her with us and question her when she wakes up."

"I-I know," Chrom ran a hand through his hair, feeling foolish. Why was he wasting time that he knew he did not have the luxury for? "I guess I'm being a little impatient."

"It would make sense that you desire answers out of her the most," Frederick flew in to defend his friend's actions, "she not only saved you, but killed a man to do so as well."

"I think it may have been more than one," Chrom brought up, shocking the two speechless. Lissa and Frederick both struggled for words.

"When I was helping the mayor go through the causalities earlier today, he accounted for bandits in parts of town we never made it too." Chrom rubbed his eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion he never knew was waiting for him.

"So she ran around slicing throats?" Lissa looked at the girl in horror.

"No," Chrom turned to his sister, "it was more than that. Their outfits were decorated, showing a sort of _hierarchy_ to them. Sub-generals, I guess."

"What are you talking about?" Frederick was trying to unpackage just what Chrom was trying to imply. So one little girl killed _experienced _soldiers? Did she pick and choose?

"I'm saying that they were almost..._ targeted_." Chrom looked back to the girl, his voice becoming lighter. "She knew who to kill to help collapse the attack. The lack of leadership sent the bandits scurrying, no one being able to tell them what to do."

"How could a kid know how to foil an attack like that?" Lissa poured herself a up of tea, suddenly remembering why she entered the room to begin with.

"I don't know..." Chrom admitted, getting a cup himself.

"It would take years to learn the information to pull off such a move," Frederick rejected the cup Lissa offered him, preferring to continue the conversation. "It would involve being able to recognize specific symbols and their meanings _in the middle of battle_. Most new soldiers panic and forget about tactics in the first two minutes."

"So what do you think?" Chrom asked, taking a drink.

"I think..." Frederick searched for the right words, "we are dealing with a tactical genius... or a well-trained spy willing to buy our trust, even killing her own side."

"You're dead set on the 'spy' thing, aren't you?" Lissa giggled at the paranoia Frederick held.

"It is better to be sure than dead!" Frederick could not help but blush at the teasing of Lissa.

"No matter," Chrom rose from his seat, placing his now empty cup on the tray that sat on the small table next to the bed. "You are right, we have to get moving towards the capital."

"What about her?" Lissa asked, her eyes drifting towards the peaceful child, still cuddling her stuffed cat.

"We're taking her with us," Chrom said to the shock of his companions. "As you said, Frederick, she could be a tactical genius. We cannot let such a valuable asset slip from our grasp."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Lissa interjected, "are you saying that she's gonna _join_ us!?"

"Not just join," Chrom said, "I want her to handle our tactics and strategy."

"M-My lord!" Frederick immediately regretted his earlier statement. "I know what I said, but quite frankly, you cannot rely on a child to do something of that magnitude!"

"You know how she killed those bandits!"

"They could have just been ones she picked out!" Frederick reasoned. "For all we know, she probably never killed them herself! Maybe a few villagers defeated them instead!"

"I saw the wounds," Chrom admitted, "each slash was low, very low. Usually targeting the legs or mid-chest. The chest wounds were angled _up_. So either a dwarf was lending his aid, or a child was."

"I'm sorry..." Lissa sat back down, rubbing her temples with her palms, "this is just so surreal..."

"What of her family, my lord?" Frederick tried to reason with his friend, "She must have parents out there, looking for her!"

"I thought of that," Chrom's tone grew cold, "I believe that she... may be orphaned."

"What!?" Lissa practically screamed. If her brother was going to claim something like that, he'd better have a damn good explanation for it!

"Children tend to repress traumatic events," Chrom explained, "and she's kept that toy with her since day one."

"And that means her family is dead how?" Frederick crossed his arms.

"I think that she is protective of it because someone she was close to gave it to her," Chrom sat on the bed, next to Robin. "Her amnesia could be linked to a mental repression, to protect her psyche after she lost whoever gave the toy to her. More than likely, her parents."

"That is assuming a lot..." Frederick noticed how desperate Chrom's arguments were. He seemed to really want take the girl...

"None of the survivors recognized her either," Chrom scratched his cheek with a hand, "I don't think she lives here."

"And you think we should take her with us?" Lissa was still uncertain. On one hand, they couldn't just abandon a young girl when no one she knows was anywhere to be found. On the other, her brother was willing to place an _enormous _responsibility on her shoulders.

"If she didn't help us, we might have lost the battle," Chrom admitted, his voice quiet and solemn. "These bandits were not like any of the others we've faced before. They were well-trained, well-equipped. They were _soldiers_. They could have easily organized to wipe out just three enemies, no matter who they were."

Chrom's thoughts drifter back to the battle. He didn't notice until he thought back on it, but his deductions were correct. He couldn't just hack away at any of them and expect a victory. He had to watch his movements, along with theirs. The chief most of all. The ring leader of the group was the one to make Chrom realize just who he was fighting.

"His accent..." Chrom said aloud, the thought hit him harder than any blow he had received in battle. "They were _Plegian_ men."

"Plegian?" Frederick asked, confusion clear on his face.

"What would Plegians do this far in Ylisse?" Lissa took another sip of her tea, long since gone cold. "This isn't one of the border towns, this is a decent ways in."

"I think they attacked under orders." Chrom rose to his feet once more, adrenaline bursting into his system. "They had the equipment and training of foot soldiers pretending to be bandits. I think they were _ordered _to attack, knowing we'd intervene."

"Are you sure about that, my lord?" Frederick felt his back tense up. "A direct military attack on one of our villages would mean full-scale war."

"It's just a theory," Chrom said, calming himself down. He didn't need to go and spout off anti-Plegian theories yet. "But I think we need to get to the capital, sooner rather than later."

"Right," Lissa said, pumping her fist in the air. "We can talk with Emm, see what she thinks we should do!"

"Right," Chrom said, picking up Robin bridal-style, who was still fast-asleep, "let's get moving."

* * *

The party wasted no time leaving the humble village. Already they were miles away, going through a forested area. The heavy amount of trees blocked long-range vision, only being able to see a dozen feet or so through the plants.

"_Chrooom~_!" Lissa whined, her inner princess coming out at full-force, "Can't we camp for the night?"

"Weren't you the one who said, 'I would rather die than sleep in some old forest!' when we left town?" Chrom snapped back at his sister.

"Well, yeah!" Lissa admitted proudly. "That was before I realized how far we are from the capital!"

"Camping will just make the trip longer..." Chrom tried to reason. Emphasis on 'try', as he himself felt the consequences of their endless walking. His impatience to leave as soon as possible caused the party to skip the meal that the town mayor offered them. His stomach growled like an enraged demon, demanding the flesh of an animal to satiate its desires.

"My lord, if I may," Frederick began, trying to keep the small child, who was _still asleep_, from falling off his horse. Every so often, she would slide to one side before a well-timed nudge who balance her again... until she drifted the other side. The micro-managing was frustrating, as apparent by the sound of Frederick's grinding teeth. "It may be best to rest for the night," Frederick looked to the setting sun, the sky turning a dark purple, "we do not want to be ambushed in the dark. Especially with our hunger and fatigue."

"Fine." Chrom stopped suddenly, tripping up Lissa and Frederick's horse. "We'll camp here for the night."

"Alright!" Lissa gave another pump of her fist, with a little jump to accentuate it.

"I'll go hunt us a bear to celebrate your victory." Chrom gave a cruel smirk.

"Wha-!? Chrom you jerk! You know I-!"

* * *

"CAN'T STAND BEAR MEAT!"

Lissa stared at the sliced piece of a freshly hunted bear Chrom had given her. She could barely keep her vomit down as she watched her brother dig into the awful-smelling, gamey meat. The group were all sitting on the ground around a small campfire, the only source of light in the forest beyond the stars.

"You should eat," Chrom said, sitting upon a rock, a wicked smile on his face, "You need to keep your strength up."

"I'll pass..." Lissa pushed the small slice of bear away from her. She sat with her knees against her chin, closer to Frederick than Chrom.

"My lady," Frederick said, sitting in a meditative position. One that should have been impossible to maneuver into due to his armor, but he should no issue with it. "You should not be so close minded, we do not have the luxury to purchase filet mignon on a regular basis."

"Oh yeah?" Lissa countered, a pout on her face, "What about you? You haven't touched your share!"

"O-Oh!" Frederick said in a panic, "I-I had a big lunch! So I am n-not very hungry!"

"If Robin was awake, she wouldn't take any of that stuff either!" Lissa tried using the child, currently sleeping next to Lissa, still clutching her toy.

"Using a seven year old is not a good argument..." Chrom said, exasperated.

"Whatever your say Mr. 'I'm Gonna Make This Little Girl My Army's Tactician'!" Lissa stuck out her tongue.

"Mmmph..." Robin groaned in her sleep, the first noise heard out of her in over three days. She tightened her eyes, tossing around lightly. Finally, the small lids slid open, observing the scenery around her.

"She's awake." Chrom said simply, catching the others' attentions.

Robin gave a small yawn before getting to her feet. She scanned around her, seeing that they were not at the field anymore.

"Wh-Where are we?" Robin asked, shaking slightly as she looked into the dark forest that she was sure held all sorts of terrible monsters.

"We are going to the capital." Frederick handed the girl a slice of meat, much to Lissa's disgust. "We have urgent business to attend to there."

"Capital...?" Robin repeated the word, saying it slowly. As if she was getting a feel for the unfamiliar term.

"It means, uh, an important city," Chrom said, swallowing a chunk of bear as he talked.

"Wh-What about my parents...?" Robin asked, her voice crushed and hopeless. Small dots of tears formed in her eyes as she hugged her cat hard against her.

"We..." Chrom searched for the right words, "We couldn't find them. I don't think they lived in that town."

"What town...?" Robin asked, confused at what the blue-haired man was saying. She couldn't remember them ever visiting a town.

"T-The town," was all Chrom could say. Every thought was ripped from his head after the little girl denied ever visiting a town with them. "Don't you remember? We were walking down the path; I smelled smoke; me and Frederick ran off and fought the bandits?"

Robin merely shook her head.

"All I remember is me and you guys walking down a road." Robin stared at her feet, apprehension filling her tiny body. "Then I woke up right here..."

"So you really cannot remember anything else?" Frederick said, suspicion filling his own body. "Not the attack, or anything like that?"

"N-No..." Robin once again had tears in her eyes. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Hey, Frederick! Back off of her!" Lissa barked at the knight, giving the small child a hug.

"Well, that's what happened." Chrom pushed the conversation forward. "The village was raided by bandits. We managed to fend them off, but something about them made me suspicious. So we're going to the capital to report it."

"Suspicious...?" Robin gave a wide-eyed look as she repeated yet another unfamiliar word.

"Distrustful, makes you want to find out if they're doing something wrong." Chrom went red-faced as he gave his interpretation. He scolded himself for forgetting who his audience was yet again.

Robin nodded as she nibbled on the chunk of meat she had. Her face was in a content grin as she chewed on the cooked bear.

Chrom shot a glare at his sister, as if saying, "_See?_"

Lissa answered by sticking her tongue out again.

* * *

A few hours later, after the party had finished their meal, the four set out their bedrolls to rest for the night. Robin, having none, shared with Lissa. Even with the space that the two took up, the bedroll fit both of them with enough to spare.

Frederick was fast asleep, still sitting in his meditative pose, this time _on the bedroll_, both legs crossed. His gentle breathing was the only clue to any outside looker that the man was "resting".

Chrom, however, could not sleep. He laid on his mat, staring into the night sky. He couldn't tell what, but something was bothering him. A ball of ice solidified in his gut, chilling his whole body. The young warrior tried to push the feeling away, trying to drown his worry in calming thoughts. He counted sheep, imagined a peaceful rain, thought of decapitating enemies, but nothing worked.

His thoughts went to his theory, of the bandits Plegian origin, but that didn't feel right either. Something else was keeping his mind going, not allowing him to relax. Chrom closed his eyes, hoping that it would force him to sleep. But when he shut his eyes, he heard a familiar voice in his mind.

"_Daddy..._"

It was Robin's voice. Before she collapsed against him after the battle, she had called him her father.

"_Father._" The word was bitter on his tongue. He could never be a dad. He was reckless, impatient, hot-headed, and addicted to battle. He could never see himself settled down with a wife and kids, that was just not _him_.

And yet...

"_Daddy..._"

He could not help but repeat the word in Robin's voice. Something about it was strange.

"_To hell with it!_"

Chrom gave up on sleep, rising from his bedroll. He stretched out his limbs before walking a ways into the forest, hoping to get some air.

"_Hopefully tonight'll be peaceful..._"

The earthquake had other plans...

* * *

_A/N_

_On Christmas Day  
I travel 'round the world and say  
Taoists, Krishnas, Buddhists, and all you atheists too  
Merry Fucking Christmas to you!_

"Merry Fucking Christmas": By Mr. Garrison.

That shall be the most widely sung carol of all time!

Anyway, not much to say. :I

I pumped out this chapter in time fore Christmas, because I love you guys. :3

But yeah, not really too funny **or **adventurous. More talking and discussing things. But the reason I cut it there is because I want the portal event thingy to have its own chapter, because that's a **pretty big _fucking deal_**!

Originally, this was all going to be **one** long chapter, but I ended up breaking it into separate chunks for the sake of time.

I'll start working on the next chapter soon, I just need to get my _**new plasma screen TV set up**_! I fucking love this holiday!


	3. Chapter 3

Even looking back on it, no one could tell just what exactly happened.

They could remember feeling the ground shake like the Earth itself was a child's play-toy.

They could recall the way the sky tore open, revealing a blue portal in the midst of the night-sky.

They could still smell the burning, as flaming meteors flew from the portal, incinerating entire chunks of the dense forest in a matter of moments.

And they could still remember seeing _figures _fall to the ground from the sky's wound.

"CHROM!" The blue-haired man heard his sister shout from behind him, her pupils the size of pinpricks. "What the heck is going on!?"

"I-I don't know!" Chrom tried to balance his breathing, feeling the early stages of shock setting in. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't let the strange, alien tear in the sky distress him. He had to have a clear head for what was about to happen.

They both saw it fall to the ground. But they still had no idea what _it _was.

It struck the ground, making a sickening thud. Despite the clearly fatal fall, it rose to its feet. Rotting flesh fell off every few seconds, revealing yellow, decaying bone. They could see dead, torn internal organs as it turned towards the two. Its jaw hung open, revealing a mass of rotten, dead, broken teeth. Its growl was strained, as if it were in agony and begging for death. One eye hung out of its socket, the other popped and revealing the innards of its skull.

Despite all of this, it shambled towards them.

"WH-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING!?" Lissa shrieked in a panic, gripping her staff for dear life.

"I-I don't know!"

The scene gave them both a sense of deja vu, but the strange sensation had to wait another time.

Though the creature started slowly, its legs shot from the ground, already swinging its rusted sword at Chrom. In a matter of seconds, the two met blades, Falchion versus the sword that looked as dead as its owner.

"_Damn!_" Chrom bit his lip, straining to keep the monster at bay. "_How is this thing __**that **__strong!?_"

The creature began swinging wildly, howling like a demon the whole time. Each impact pushed Chrom further back, threatening to throw Falchion from his hands.

Chrom saw how the beast had such strength. The swings were accompanied by chunks of flesh that ripped from their owner, flying wildly around the forest. The creature did not seem to notice, still swinging its sword wildly.

"_I can't get a shot at it!_" Every blow happened after another, mere moments between them. The kind of speed it possessed would have made a normal human's muscles explode, no matter how much training they possessed.

One final strike finally broke Chrom's defense.

Falchion flew from his hands, the young man following close behind. The force of the monster's attack launched Chrom from the ground, slamming him against a nearby tree. He had to bite his cheek as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel a few broken ribs jiggle around in his body with every slight movement. Not fatal, but extraordinarily painful.

"Chrom!" Lissa ran to her brother, the beast taking time to relocate its arms after the last strike, both knocked out of place by the force.

"Look out!" Chrom yelled to his sister, seeing the monster attempt another attack, its arms back in order. It seemed to transport, its legs going so fast that it was hard to keep track of the monster.

"Huh?" Lissa looked to see the beast mere inches away from her, the pungent smell of rotten meat flooding her nose. "WAAAH!" she couldn't help but shriek once more.

Lissa blindly swung her staff, coming in contact with its skull. A sickening crack made its way through her arms, vibrating her tiny, feminine hands. Her eyes were shut tight, wanting to avoid seeing her last moments.

The beast gave once finally moan before falling onto the ground, disintegrating on its way. Its body melted down into dust and a cloud of purple smoke, armor and sword with it. Not a single shred of evidence was left to say that the rotting corpse had just tried to kill them.

"Wow..." Lissa whispered out, still in shock, "I am so **badass**!"

* * *

"Robin!" Frederick called out, atop his horse. The experienced knight could tell something was awry the minute the earthquake began. He quickly hopped upon his steed and readied his lance, a massive weapon that shined brightly due to the silver used to forge it. His eyes scanned the forest, trying to find the little girl that seemed to have vanished when the forest was set ablaze.

All he could see was an army of corpses, all coming for him.

"My Gods..." Frederick could only force the words out. The creatures shambled and stumbled their way forward, their arms limply swinging around, holding their various weapons with iron-hard grips.

"R-Robin!" He began calling her name again. Trying to find that familiar cloak in the midst of all of the madness. But despite his straining vocal cords, the moans of the creatures drowned out his voice, all becoming louder as they closed the distance between them.

"To hell with it!" Frederick raised his lance to the horde, a look of pure rage upon him, and even his horse. He kicked the steed's side twice, signaling it to charge.

His war cry was the only thing that could pierce the collective moans.

* * *

Robin didn't know where to go. She was so tired...

Her tiny legs shuffled forward, despite her exhaustion. The forest was so thick and dark, but she had to keep going. They needed her.

"_I have to make a plan... have to find the masked man..._"

Those thoughts repeated over and over. She kept forcing herself forward without realizing it. She just wanted to go to bed, hug Kitty, maybe talk Lissa into telling her a story. But she knew she had to find the Masked Man.

The Masked Man was all she could think about. She saw him fall from the sky while Chrom and Lissa were fighting the monster. She had followed the two when the earthquake began, as she was scared at what was going on. But when she saw the creature, a switch flipped inside of her. All she could think of was what kind of plan they needed. The plan involved the Masked Man. The plan. The plan. The plan.

It was all she could think of.

The plan was the most important part. Play time could wait. She needed to make a plan. Stories could wait. She needed to make a plan. Kitty could wait. She needed a plan. Needed to not be such a spoiled shit!

Those thoughts were all that came to her, almost instinctively. As though someone sewed them to her brain.

"_I need to not be worthless! I need to be a good girl! Good girls make plans when they're told to!_"

Bad ones cry when they should be making plans. Girls get hit when they're bad. So she can't be bad.

"Take this, foul monster!"

Robin could hear the Masked Man. He was close.

"_Damn!_" The masked figure shouted to himself as he cleaved another of the undead monsters in two, watching it disintegrating as it smashed against its 'comrades'. But even though he had been making quick work of the Risen, more were stumbling their way towards him.

He didn't have time for this! He had to find Chrom and Lissa!

"_I screwed up the portal! How stupid could I have been!?_"

The masked man scolded himself as he decapitated another of the Risen. He swiftly dodged the arrow one of them shot towards him, embedding itself in the tree behind him. He swung his longsword and detatched the Risen's top half from its bottom half, watching it explode into smoke and dust.

His breaths were ragged and heavy as the fighting continued, more Risen throwing themselves against him. The barrage may not have push him in regards to skill, but certainly in endurance. His sword was growing heavier by the minute, harder to raise and swing. His vision was growing hazier, turning into pinpricks in his eyes. He was sure that he had reached his limit.

That is, until he saw a familiar purple cloak, with a head of white hair, wandering around the forest.

"_Robin!?_"

A burst of adrenaline flowed through the masked man, pushing him off his knees and towards the girl, cleaving Risen left and right on the way. The distance shortened with every step, minutes turning into seconds and feet into centimeters.

The man reached his hand out, grabbing at the cloak. Once he had a good handful, he pulled the cloak towards him, the girl following suit.

He did not know how far he ran. He could not even hear anything. He simply threw his legs into a lightning-fast rhythm, not allowing the Risen a single chance to catch up to him. He ran and ran, until he spotted upon a familiar man on a horse, fending off Risen to the best of his abilities as he probably was unaware of the 'rules' in regards to defeating them.

* * *

More of the undead threw themselves at Chrom and Lissa, both fighting as hard as they physically could.

The clouds of smoke were getting thicker, choking the two. The ash was covering the ground like snow, turning into piles of purple dust.

The moans were drilling themselves into the duo's heads shaking them to the bone. The mere sound of it was enough to terrify a lesser soldier. The guttural, violent moans sounded as though the beasts' lungs were tearing apart in their bodies, which was true in some cases.

The horde was circling around the two, surrounding them on all sides. The vast numbers were enough to block out any sight of the trunks of the trees. The clanking and clanging of the rusted armor drowned out even the sounds of the thick fire still burning the trees, and even some of the zombies.

"_Zombies..._" The word made Chrom chuckle. He felt like he was part of a bad horror story.

Chrom pushed the thought away as he sliced another limb of another ghoul, watching it fall apart into ash. He looked to see Lissa, swinging her staff at the creatures' heads. She had managed to kill more than one by that point, learning that she had to hit them in the head to kill them. Chrom seemed to have had the luxury to merely need to deliver a slash with Falchion to finish them.

That detail was diminished by the massive number of undead, as each swing was costing him valuable energy.

"Waaah!" Lissa shrieked again, for the third time that night. A ghoul pulling her to the ground and laying atop her. "G-Get it off! Help!"

"Lissa!" Chrom tried to help his sister, but was surrounded by zombies, unable to even move from his spot. He could only listen to her screams as the beast raised its rusting ax, ready to chop her head like a watermelon.

The sound of an arrow tore through the wind, followed by the sound of it piercing the skull of the ghoul atop Lissa.

"Captain Chrom! Wait! I'm coming! ...Agh, I knew I shouldn'ta left 'em. All right, you ash-faced freaks! Which one of ya wants to try my lance on for size first? I know just the spot for it: shoved right up your-!" The two heard a brazen, angry woman shout before being interrupted. They recognized the first voice as their good friend, Sully. But the second one was strange, prissy, and annoying.

"Hold, milady!" the second voice called, a man trying to do his best 'romantic and charming' impression.

"Muh?" Sully let herself be distracted by the annoying man, still out of vision to the two who were _fighting for their lives_!

"Life may be long, but attraction is fleeting! Would you leave me in your sweet dust? Leave war to the warrors, dear bird! A beauty such as you need wage only love." The prissy man continued his moronic quest to romance Sully, who the two knew personally was about to combine a boot and a man in a way that was illegal in some parts of Ylisse.

"...The hell are you?!" Sully merely screamed out, unsure if she was dealing with someone who had 'special' problems.

"Ha! Is the lady intrigued? Of course you are—it's only natural. I am myth and legend! I am he who strides large across history's greatest stage! The man who puts the "arch" in 'archer'! My name, dear lady, is Vi-!" The man was swiftly cut off by an impatient Sully.

"Sorry, Ruffles—no time for this. Onward!" The two heard her horse give off a mighty war cry, reading itself for battle.

"Virion! ...Er, my name. It's Virion. W-wait! Where are you going? Pray, at least tell me your name!" The man known as Virion began to sound desperate.

"_WILL YOU TWO HURRY IT UP ALREADY!?_" Chrom shouted in his mind, still fending off zombies on every side of him.

"I'm Sully. ...And I'm a Shepherd..."

Chrom almost gave up on waiting for the two to help them, going back to fighting for _his life_ against the ever approaching mass of ghouls.

"'Sully'! How divine! A starkly beautiful name, as befits its owner, truly. Will you marry me, my dearest Sully?" Virion's voice sounded whimsically stupid. As though he was a brain damaged puppy trying to swim in a puddle of water on he street.

"Will I what now? Oh wait, I get it... This is a joke. And when I put my boot through your face—that's the punch line." Sully's frustration was clearly growing. She realized that she was wasting time on the idiot, and she needed to get a move on if she was gonna kick ass and take names, and then give those names to other asses she kicked.

"I realize my manly figure and noble bearing can be overwhelming. 'Tis common! So please, don't feel pressured to answer right a-"

"How's THIS for an answer?!"

Chrom could hear the man grunt and fall to his knees. Sully clearly gave him one of her famous 'No X-juniors for you!' kicks.

"OOF! G-goodness, but those shapely legs certainly can kick, can't they... P-please, milady! Allow me to accompany you, at least! Mine is a cold, empty world without you. I shall be your most willing servant, and you, in turn, will give my life purpose..." Virion's voice was strained, him clearly trying to recover from the blow to his manhood.

Sully gave a heavy sigh, seeing she had no choice in the matter.

"Fine... Anything to shut you up. ...What? Stop staring at me like that!"

"OH MY GODS, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND HELP US!" Chrom screamed.

* * *

Frederick was having trouble fending off the horde of ghouls. No matter what blow he gave them, they simply got back up and came at him again! The only permanent solution he found was a heavy strike to the head, smashing their brains. With that, they disintegrated and died.

But that was hard to pull of when there were twenty of them all coming at once.

"_Damn! I was a fool, now I'm surrounded._" Frederick searched for a bright light in the bleak scenario.

"_At least this means that less are after Lord Chrom and Lady Lissa_." He was willing to take on a few zombies for the sake of saving his charges.

He heard a grunt, along with one of the ghouls' moans and the sounds of a sword cutting through rotting flesh.

Frederick looked to see a man wearing a mask, his blue hair short. His clothing was of a soldier, but one of high ranking. He shook the thought away. He needed to focus on killing the ghouls, not on the clothes of a helpful ally.

"Aim for the head!" The man called out to Frederick, slicing off the head of one of the creatures to demonstrate.

"I am," Frederick grunted as he blocked the blow of a ghoul, allowing his armored arm absorb the strike, "quite aware of that!"

Frederick almost lost sight of the man, him already slashing his way through the zombies ferociously. But one detail paralyzed Frederick in his place.

It was Robin. She was just standing in the middle of the forest, zombies encroaching her. Despite the clear danger, the young girl simply stood, her face in a dream-like state.

"Robin!" Frederick called out, swinging his lance and clearing out six zombies at once. His horse tore through the rotting monsters, their bodies falling apart from the force. He dismounted from the mighty beast, bringing its mighty hooves to the unfortunate ghouls that tried to harm its master.

"Robin!" Frederick grabbed Robin's shoulders, inspecting the girl for any wounds. She had none, but Robin merely stared off into space. "Robin! Are you alright!" Frederick could not tell what was wrong. The little girl simply stared off, muttering to herself so quietly that Frederick could not tell what she was saying. He saw a trail of red, pouring from her nose. It was thick and crimson, smelling of copper.

"Masked... Man..." Was all she muttered, looking at the figure, cleaving his way towards the two.

"What about him?" Frederick demanded, seeing more ghouls approaching, "Did he hurt you!?"

"Get him... to Chrom..." Robin's words spilled from her lips, sounding dazed and confused.

"Robin!" Frederick screamed, shaking the girl roughly. She wasn't making any sense!

"Wh-Why are you mad at me...?" Robin's eyes began to become wet. Little sniffles began once more, this time bringing more blood from her nose. "I made a good plan...! I'm a good girl!"

"R-Robin!" Frederick shook the girl once more, trying to snap her out of the strange state. He saw the ghouls, mere inches away, raising their weapons.

"_Damn it!_"

He whistled, calling his steed to him. The mighty warhorse was there in mere moments, ashes covering its armored body. Frederick placed the girl on top of the horse, gently laying her onto its saddle.

Frederick looked to the masked figure, who was looking directly at him in surprise.

"Get to Chrom!" Frederick called to him. "You may use my horse if you need to!"

"Watch out!" The figure answered back.

Frederick turned his head to see one of the ghouls swing its blade at him.

* * *

Chrom and his group were holding off the zombies fairly well. Virion was skilled with a bow, as he had boasted, and Sully was just as monstrous as they remembered. Arrows and limbs littered the air as they cleaned out the clearing they fought in.

"Chrom, behind you!" Lissa called out, watching one of the monsters be clever and attempt to sneak up on her brother while he was preoccupied with one of its 'allies'.

"Got 'im!"

The creature's head exploded as Sully smashed her lance against its head, spraying bone and brain matter around as the beast fell.

Virion was firing arrows left and right, each one hitting their mark. One after the other fell as his arrows tore through skull after skull.

"This is simply too easy." Virion smirked as he readied another shot.

"Ruffles, watch out!" Sully called, seeing a zombie raise its own bow towards him.

The creature was crushed under the hooves of a familiar knight's horse. However, it held no knight upon it. Instead it was a masked man and an unconscious child who rode upon it.

"Who are you!?" Lissa called out, seeing the man leap from the horse and join the fighting. "Where's Frederick!?"

"Fight now! Talk later!" The man simply said, raising a silver longsword and blocking a strike.

The group of warriors continued like this, continually fighting and scrapping past death at every moment. They had to finish the battle quickly, their energy getting lower every minute they kept going. The crowd of beasts was getting thicker, the moans louder, the clanks heavier.

"Horse..." Robin moaned out, still atop Frederick's steed. She gripped the reigns as she raised herself up, still woozy from her state. "We have to get going. We have to do the plan."

The horse moved slowly, trying to keep its rider stable. It instinctively rode forward at the tiny kicks of the 'rider'. The momentum built, and the horse shot off like an arrow as the rider pulled out a small book.

"Get their attention..." Robin muttered to herself, reading the book as she shook atop the steed, "Chop off the head."

She knew where she had to go.

* * *

"_Damn it!_"

Frederick smashed against a tree, blood spilling from his mouth. His bones were either creaking or slicing into his flesh, long since broken.

His eyes shot to his assailant, a massive ghoul holding a war-hammer the size of a log. The idea that such a weapon could exist baffled the knight. Every slam made Frederick's bones jiggle in is body, threatening to snap apart like twigs. If he had not had his armor, he would have become paste after the first hit.

"_I can only avoid it..._" Frederick looked to his weapon, behind the ghoul. The beast would have killed him, had it not have been for that strange man warning him beforehand. He managed to raise his lance and block the blow, losing his weapon and breaking his right arm in the process.

Frederick scanned around, seeing that it was only he and the ghoul. Strangely, they were alone. They were practically swarming him an hour ago, yet now he was in the midst of a duel, with no other opponents in sight.

"_I just need a chance!_" Frederick bounced his eyes between his weapon and the ghoul, searching for the window he needed. Even with his broken arm and ribs, he could still wield his weapon and fight! He simply needed to push the pain from his mind. Let the adrenaline do its work. And cut the dastard's head off.

"I just need a chance..." Frederick repeated aloud. But the ghoul was not allowing any sort of opportunity to arrive. If he dove to the side, the monster could easily swing in that direction. If he tried to dive under it, its legs would be in the way, leaving him wide open. If he tried to push through it, the pain would overwhelm him, as he no longer had the strength to push such a beast.

A crack of lightning shot through the forest, smashing against the creature and sending it flying. The sound of hooves was getting closer, telling Frederick one thing.

"_R-Robin!?_"

He looked to see the young girl, holding a spell book, still in her dazed state; her lids half-closed and blood streaming from her nose, staining her robe.

"Cut off the head..." Robin said, almost dreamily. She gave a tiny yawn before falling asleep on top of Frederick's horse, a small smile on her face.

"_I have a shot now!_"

Frederick wasted no time. In seconds, he was on his feet and going for his lance. He gripped the weapon with his unbroken arm, clutching the other one against him. He readied the weapon, the ghoul got to its feet, bones cracking and snapping the whole way.

"Come at thee, foul creature!" Frederick taunted, seeing the monster shambling towards the girl.

The ghoul turned its head towards him, bones snapping and crackling. Its body still moved for Robin, head fixated on Frederick the whole time.

"Don't go for the girl!" Frederick shouted, dropping his formal tongue, "Come at me!"

The zombie still shuffled for Robin.

"Come on, you rotting bag of pus! Kill me!"

Frederick tried to move, but his legs would not respond. They did not hurt, or ache, or even tickle. They were simply numb, unable to follow his brain's commands. He had to get moving!

The moans of the undead dastard grew excited as it arrived at Frederick's horse, which was kicking wildly at the monster. The beast merely slammed its fist against the horse, knocking it unconscious. A rotting hand grabbed the little girl, still sleeping innocently, unaware of the fatal danger she was in.

"_Shit! I have to do something __**now**__!_"

Frederick gripped at something, _anything_ that he could use to help deal with the pain. He grabbed a small, white rag in his pocket. Stuffed it into a bundle. And placed it into his mouth.

"_This is going to hurt __**a lot**__..._"

Frederick switched his lance over to his broken right arm, his dominant hand. He bit down as blinding pain electrocuted his system. He raised his arm up, readying it to throw the lance. Frederick could taste bile threatening to flood his mouth, the pain making him gag.

But despite this, he pulled his arm back... and threw the spear.

* * *

_A/N_

TWO CHAPTERS IN TWO DAYS, BITCHES!

Don't get used to it, though. In fact, I may slow down after this one. :I

But yeah, pretty crazy battle huh?

This chapter felt really weird to write, jumping around so much, but it was fun!

Also! I teased a bit of Robin's backstory... Preeetty fucked up, right?

Trust me, I will do things that will make you go, "_WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU_!?" to that kid. She will get no mercy.

Anyways, I'm making this short. Got a Papa John's pizza I am trying to enjoy, and this is holding me back from it.

Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

"Was that the last of them?" The masked man sheathed his blade, gasping heavily at the peace they were given.

"I think so..." Lissa waved her staff over Chrom's arm, healing it of the arrow wound he had sustained during the fighting.

"Thank gods!" Sully could barely keep herself on her feet, taking on a majority of the fighting. It was always a habit of hers to overexert herself, but she didn't care. Nobody was dead, so she did a damn good job.

"I must say," Virion said, clutching his bow, "are these creatures common in your land?"

"Not to my knowledge," Chrom kept his eyes peeled for any more of the undead beasts.

"Wait..." The masked man's tone gre worried. He flew into a panic, running around and trying to find something. "Oh gods! I failed again!"

"What is it?" Lissa could feel her eyes growing heavier. She was tempted to simply lay on the ground and catch a few hours of sleep, but the frenzied savior was holding her back from her rest.

"Where is the horse!?" The man stated, almost accusingly.

"What horse?" Sully asked, scratching her own behind the ear.

"T-The one I rode on to get here!" The man's breathing grew ragged once more, this time full of anxiety rather than exhaustion.

"You mean Frederick's..." Chrom's words fell apart as he realized what the implication of the stranger riding in on his friend's faithful steed without _Frederick _meant. "Oh gods!"

* * *

Frederick could not hold back a scream as he chucked the spear, the bone of his arm jutting out from his skin.

The silver lance flew through the air, aimed for the beast holding a particular, unconscious child.

The impact was heavy, tearing the beast clean in two. The point dug clean into its skull, taking its torso along for the ride to a nearby tree, embedding itself deep. Its rotten hand dropped Robin, who landed onto the ground with a heavy thud. Frederick tried to get to his feet, but his broken bones kept him in place.

A heavy cough brought the taste of copper to his mouth.

"_Damn it! I must have gotten wounded worse than I thought..._"

The thought seemed to confirm itself as he could no longer keep his balance, falling face-first to the ground. The adrenaline drained from his body, pain rising in every nerve he contained. More coughs brought more blood, something followed with a disturbing thought.

"_There is no way I should have punctured a lung!_"

His eyes looked over to Robin, unconscious on the ground, yet writhing. Her body shook and slid, as though she were possessed by demons. She made small squeaks of pain, tiny moans of discomfort and agony. The sight confused the injured knight, trying his best to get back to his feet. His armored hand scrounged through his pouch, retrieving a vulnerary. He downed the life-saving tonic, cringing at the vile texture and bitter taste. The effects were immediate, the pain melting from his body. Frederick got to his hands and knees, trying to keep his balance.

"_That girl looks like she could use one..._"

Frederick limped towards Robin, who still writhed on the ground. He reached into his pouch, attempting to find another vulnerary. The small bag, well-hidden under the plates of his armor, held numerous bottles, all of which for medicinal purposes. As much as he trusted the healing skills of Lady Lissa, he knew to have a few backups in case of an emergency.

"_A smart decision, for sure._" He thought as he retrieved another bottle.

Frederick crouched down to the moaning girl, pressing her lips against the small potion bottle. He was not entirely sure that she was injured, but it would help deal with the pain she was in. Frederick nearly had to force the viscous slime down her throat, her shaking spilling most of it on her robe, but he got the rest of it down her throat.

The girl slowly ceased her movements, slowly falling back into an unconscious state. Her soft breaths indicating that she was getting a peaceful sleep.

"_The girl's spent a majority of the time passed out..._"

Frederick picked the child up with his left arm, the other still healing with help from the potion. While it was certainly able to keep him from bleeding to death, it would still take time to return him to one-hundred percent. He placed Robin on his back, her arms locking around his neck. She was light enough to carry without being any sort of inconvenience, at most she felt like ten pounds.

"Right!" Frederick announced to no one in particular, "Let us find the others then." He groaned as he mounted his horse, still feeling sore.

"_As the saying goes: I will __**definitely **__feel this one in the morning..._"

* * *

"You think he's alright?" Sully asked, her horse trotting alongside the siblings: Chrom and Lissa.

"He's fine," Chrom reassured his friend, a proud smirk on his face. "It will take a lot more than the living dead to kill Frederick."

"Yep!" Lissa practically bounced with each step, a care-free smile on her face. "Ol' Freddy-Bear won't go down unless he's taking a dragon with him!"

"'Freddy-Bear'...?" Chrom asked, confused at the strange nickname his sister had used.

"Oh yeah!" Lissa's face held a look of realization. "He _hates _that name. It's unbelievably funny to annoy him with it." Lissa placed a hand over her mouth as she giggled.

"'Cause the guy can't stand bear meat?" Sully knew of Frederick's picky-eating. She saw the way he fed his 'left-overs' to the animals, particularly, her horse. The damn thing gained twenty pounds due to the guy's 'generosity'!

"He can't?" Chrom said, in mock-surprise. The fact of Frederick being choosy with his meals was one that was well-known throughout the Shepherds, frustrating them more than anything.

"I say," Virion piped in, "that is a surprise. Who does not appreciate a good bear from time to time?"

"Especially if you get the cubs too," the stranger added in, "Spread the young meat on a cracker, mother in a stew. Delicious!"

The rest of the party stared at the stranger in horror.

"W-What the hell is wrong with you!?" Lissa's eyes went wide, shaking in fright.

"What...?" The masked man merely looked around in confusion, unaware of the strange statement he had made.

"Ho there!" A familiar voice called out.

The party forgot of the creepy man and looked to the sound of clanking and trotting, seeing Frederick's horse step through the thick brush. Robin was fast asleep, holding onto his neck for dear life. Each movement made him groan, and his armor creak.

"Good to see you all alive and well. Sully," Frederick nodded to the red-headed woman. "Who are they?" he asked simply, referring to the strangers who followed Chrom and his friends.

"That is Virion," Chrom waved to the archer. "And that is...?"

"Marth." The stranger was quick to answer.

"Marth...?" Chrom repeated the name, unsure. "Like the old king?"

"Exactly," Marth began, "my moth-"

"Say no more!" Chrom exclaimed, pure glee in his eyes. "I can't believe this!"

"Believe what?" Lissa juggled her eyes between Marth and Chrom.

"Well, Sir Marth!" Chrom said with a flourish of his cape. "Welcome to the future!"

A swift kick to the head by Sully extinguished the thought.

"No, I am not from the past..." Marth rubbed his head, frustration building. "I must speak with Ro-"

Marth's words were torn from his throat when he saw Robin. He thought that she looked small, but was not...

"_A CHILD!?_"

Marth only babbled sad attempts at the Ylissean language before falling onto the ground, passed out unconscious.

"Is he alright?" Frederick watched from horseback as Lissa rushed to Marth, searching him over for injury.

"He's fine," she reassured him, "just passed out."

"Why now?" Chrom lightly poked at Marth's unconscious body with a stick, poking him in the face repeatedly.

"Damn it, Chrom!" Sully ripped the stick from his hands. "You know that we promised that **I** got first dibs on poking knocked out mysterious strangers!"

"Right..." Chrom proceeded to watch with envy as Sully jabbed at Marth with the stick.

"Hey! I found something!" Lissa said, picking up a note that fell out of Marth's pocket.

"What does it say?" Virion ceased rifling through Marth's pockets, certainly not trying to take any money. Definitely not... Shut up.

"It says: '_If you are seeing this letter, it means that I am in a state of unconsciousness. Please leave me where I am, no matter what state you find me in. I assure you that I am fine and able to get myself out of any state of danger that you believe me to be in. If you attempt to help me, I will report you to the town guards, claiming that you not only robbed me, but sexually assaulted my horse. Thank you, and have a good day._'"

"But... he doesn't have a horse," Chrom said in confusion. Why would someone be so dedicated to not getting any help?

"There's a post-script," Lissa added. "'_If I do not have a horse, then I will say that it was my cat instead._'"

"Well then..." Frederick turned his horse away, attempting to distance himself from the strange man obsessed with forced-animal-intercourse. "My lord, we should get going."

"Right," Chrom said, giving a nod to Frederick. "Let's get moving to the capital," he ordered to the group.

"What about Marth?" Lissa asked, her instincts as a healer demanding her to stay and help him.

"Emmeryn does not need rumors that we molest cats," Chrom said with bitterness on his tongue. "He doesn't want help, so we shouldn't force it on him."

"Right," Frederick said in reflexive agreement, "let us get moving."

"Robin's asleep _again_?" Lissa noticed the small form hugging the armored giant from atop his steed.

"Yes," was all Frederick said, uninterested in continuing the conversation.

"What about you?" Chrom asked, noticing the pained state of his friend.

"I'll survive the trip, my lord," Frederick said with a smile.

"Your arm looks shot," Sully interjected, seeing how Frederick kept it clutched against his form.

"I took a vulnerary not too long ago," Frederick scanned the worried looks of his friends, "I will be fine."

"Still," Chrom crossed his arms, "pay a visit to Lissa soon. Make sure not to reopen your wounds during the trip."

"Understood, my lord."

* * *

_She could remember a few things. Not many, but a few._

_She could remember warm nights, not too hot or cold. A field came to mind too, full of beautiful white flowers. Their petals scattered through the air, like snowflakes in the wind. She remembered sitting on the ground with... someone. No faces came to mind, only two forms. They were bigger than her, each towering above her small form._

_She remembered laughing with them. She could feel her muscles contort her face into a pure expression of joy. She heard them laugh too. They were all happy in the field, but she did not remember why. She couldn't even remember what she was laughing with._

_She remembered wrapping her arms around one of the forms, feeling tired from their fun-filled day. They played together in that field. Maybe it was a picnic? The taste of sandwiches came to her tongue, confirming her suspicions. She heard herself giggling. It was strange. What was funny?_

"_We—o—ou."_

_One of them talked. Its voice was distorted and unrecognizable. _

"_I—t-!" _

_She heard herself speak, feeling her mouth form the words. Her voice was just as frazzled and alien as the other._

_She looked at one of the forms, trying to will her way through the strange... interference? The form became clearer, details filling in slowly but surely. She could remember long hair, long past their shoulders. She saw how the form became kinder, gentler with every passing second. A wave of nostalgia hit her. She felt happy with the woman. That is what it was. A tall woman in a purple cloak, with long, white hair. Her voice was soft, lulling her to sleep. _

_The last words she heard the woman say brought the sorrow back. The regret, the anger, the **failure**._

"_We love you, Lucina."_

* * *

"Wake up!" Frederick announced with a smile on his face. He was kind enough to try to awaken his friends... while using a ladle and a pan to make enough noise that Naga herself would butcher the man.

"Frederick..." Chrom groaned out, "remind me to have you castrated so that you cannot contaminate this world with your offspring."

"As you wish, my lord," Frederick said, still in a grin.

Frederick walked over to Sully, who was still snoring like a dragon. He banged the pan and ladle together, trying to rouse her from her sleep.

"I'll kill you, Leonard Nimoy!" she shouted as he jerked up, being torn out of sleep. She looked to see Frederick, holding a confused look on his face.

"Who is Leonard Nimoy?"

"Some nerd I beat up when I was a kid," Sully explained with a shrug.

"Right," Frederick repeated his pan and ladle torture to Sully's horse, which was still sleeping. The horse rose to its hooves, found the source of the disturbance, and delivered a swift hoof to his genitals.

"Nice try!" Frederick delivered proudly. "But I have extra armor down there thanks to a doctor's visit."

"What, he say you gotta protect your junk?" Sully spat as she got on her horse, finally waking up.

"No, I was molested by the nurse and I need the armor to feel safe."

"Oh, sorry to hear 'bout that..." Sully rubbed the back of her neck with a hand. "Childhood trauma's bound to fu-"

"No, this happened last week."

Sully stared at Frederick in shock, paralyzed on top of her steed.

"Right!" Frederick marched away, approaching the archer, Virion. He could hear the sky-blue-haired man mumble in his sleep. None of which he was going to repeat for the sake of polite conversation. All he would reveal, years later, was that it involved a Plegian prostitute, whip cream, a pegasus, and broom that would never be used again. He repeatedly clanged his instruments together, awakening the archer from his... _pleasant_ dream.

"Was I talking in my sleep again...?" Virion asked aloud, almost rhetorically.

"All I will say is this," Frederick cleared his throat, "friend, you need Naga."

"Where's Robin...?" Chrom asked, rubbing his eyes. He could not spot the little girl anywhere, drifting his gaze across the small campfire they had set the previous night.

"She awoke with me and went off to wash her hair in the river," Frederick explained, retrieving a few strips of bacon from the travel pack they carried. He placed them in the pan he had used, relighting the fire and holding the pan above it. The scent of cooking bacon flooded the air, awaking Lissa from her sleep.

"Mmm..." she said tiredly, "That smells good..."

"Hey!" Sully shouted, "Why the hell didn't you clang metal over _her _head!?"

"Because it would've just wasted time..." Chrom knew of his sister's heavy sleeping. An earthquake would need to ally itself with a tornado and a dragon in order to awaken his sister. Only through the smell of cooked breakfast can she be forced from her bed. "You said that she went to wash her hair?" Chrom asked Frederick.

"Robin? Yes," Frederick said, trying to keep Lissa from the food before it was done, her body slithering like an eel towards the bacon.

"And you let her off on her own?" Chrom gritted his teeth.

"The river is not far from here," Frederick pointed out to his right, indicating the direction. "Maybe around ten to twenty feet?"

"She's seven," Chrom argued, "That distance is like a mile to her."

"Doesn't keep ya from making her your strategist," Sully teased, stretching her muscles.

"And how do you know that?" Chrom asked, his tone frustrated and angry.

"I hear things!" Sully's was offended and defensive. "I have friends too, ya know!"

"Frederick..." Chrom turned to his steward/personal guard, who was currently smacking Lissa's hand for trying to steal some of his food.

"Sully is a Shepherd too," Frederick said between mouthfuls of bacon and eggs, "You did not say that it is a secret."

"Good point," Chrom groaned. He hated himself sometimes...

"Embarrassed that a little girl had to save your ass?" Sully held a smirk.

Chrom merely glared at Frederick once again.

"I kept that hidden, my lord."

Chrom aimed his gaze at Lissa, happily chewing on a piece of bacon.

"Shouldn't you be looking for that kid?" Sully asked, piercing an egg with her lance and eating it from there.

"That's really unhealthy..." Chrom said as he walked in the direction of the river, just noticing the sounds of flowing water and gleeful giggling.

"_Time to play babysitter..._"

* * *

Robin was happily splashing in the river, the water warm and relaxing. Frederick told her that she had to wash her hair before they got to the capital, so he told her to go to the river. She took the soap that he had in his pack, aimed at cleaning as fast as she could so that she could spend the rest of the time playing in the water. She loved swimming! It was so much fun!

Her eyes looked to her toy, Kitty, laying in the pile her robe made. She was lucky not have lost her before the battle. She had no idea a battle even took place! Apparently, she slept through it again. At least, that's what they told her. She was happy that happened. Battles sound scary...

"_I like studying them though!_"

The thought made her smile when she thought back to the books Chrom made her read. They were a bunch of old strategy books, most smelling like mold and wet paper. She gagged when he first handed her one, the stink making her eyes water. She liked the book though! It was fun to read!

"_When I told him that, he got really happy!_"

Robin giggled as she splashed in the water. She liked Chrom! And the... Shepherds?

"_If they're Shepherds... Where are their sheep?_"

She remembered that that's what that word means. They herd sheep or something. She'd have to ask about that later. It was confusing!

Robin began to open up to the Shepherds during their travels. She enjoyed Lissa's company, the two playing games together when they set up camp. Frederick was fun too! He was like a butler, always taking orders from Chrom and doing them favors. She loved how he fixed up Kitty for her, reattaching one of her ears when it fell off. Sully still scared her, always being loud and angry. Maybe she just needed a nap? She was always 'training', which was what she called practicing with that lance of hers. Virion was the weirdest one. He always complimented Sully and Lissa, but everyone would just get angry at him. Did they not like compliments?

"_But when Chrom or Frederick do it, they get really happy!_"

Robin furrowed her brow in confusion. She needed to look into that later.

A squeaky yelp came from Robin when she felt something slimy and scaly brush past her leg. She jumped from the river, leaping back onto shore. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down to the assailant that scared her from her swimming.

It was a fish. A large fish that -stood?- in place in the river. Its beady eye looked to Robin, mouth consistently opening and closing every few seconds. It began swimming in a small circle, gills folding and unfolding. Its bright scales shone through the river, almost blinding the girl thanks to the early morning sun.

"Are you... hungry?" Robin asked the fish. She skipped over to her robe, retrieving a bag of bread she kept hidden. If she hid anything, only she would be able to find it! That was her philosophy regarding bread. It was her favorite treat, even surpassing sweets. She felt a pang of guilt when she tore a tiny bit off and threw it to the fish, who gobbled it up with haste. "I guess you are!"

She continued throwing bits of bread at the fish, trying to keep the amounts small to save her own supply up. The fish continually gobbled the bread, still swimming in a small circle. She didn't know whether it was doing that for fun or to entice more bread from her, but she didn't care. She liked the fish. It was cute.

"I'm gonna give you a name!" Robin said with a smile. She thought for a time, humming to herself. "How about 'Fishy'!"

Her creativity with names is not a strong suit.

"Do you wanna come with me, Fishy?" Robin asked the fish, still swimming in a circle. "I think we have a bowl you can live in!"

"Robin?" she heard a voice say.

"Fishy! You can talk!" She gasped, but began giggling with glee.

"What? No. It's me, Chrom." the voice continued. She recognized it as, in fact, Chrom.

"Chrom!? You turned into a fish?" Robin asked in confusion.

"...Just... just turn behind you..."

Robin turned to see Chrom, his palm on his face. Her cheeks went red with embarrassment.

"We gotta get going," Chrom began, "Say goodbye to your little friend, get dressed, and we'll head out for the capital."

"O-Oh..." Robin could not keep the disappointment out of her voice. She liked the river. And she liked Fishy...

"Ylisstol has a river too," Chrom said with a sigh.

The girl gave a hopeful smile.

"We're not taking the fish with us."

"You're mean!" Robin said with a pout.

* * *

_A/N_

This is Griped, and I have a message.

HOLY FUCK WAS THIS FRUSTRATING TO WRITE!

I went through _three _different versions of this fucking thing before I got to this one! Mainly because I tried killing off Frederick, and I couldn't figure out how to make that work. But I decided that it'd be better to go for a lighter shift in tone due to the depressing that was 3. But yeah, we've all learned something from this experience, children. We've learned that writing kids is weird. That Frederick was molested during their stay in the first village (Do the math. 3 days in the first village, and few hours of travel, plus 4 days on the road with Sully and Virion.). That Robin likes bread, and sucks at naming stuff. And that Lissa is a dirty food thief, don't you hate those people?

But I may have to slow down a _bit _more on this story to focus on some others that I've been abandoning. It's just that when I get an idea, I beat it to death then leave it for months at a time. I _promise _to try my best to not let that happen to this one. I like this concept!

So, until next time, this has been me saying: "The census is a way for the UN to make your children gay!"

Haha... Anchorman 2 reference.


	5. Chapter 5

The bustling streets of Ylisstol never ceased to amaze Chrom, and he lived there his whole life! The consistent crowds of common folk, merely trying to purchase groceries, or visit friends and family, or even sell a few wares, would give Chrom a proud grin. He breathed in deep, enjoying the air of the busy city he was proud to call home.

Long city blocks, full of shops and homes intersecting between each other, surrounded the party of Shepherds. After several days in the forest, the sight gave a sense of wonderment to the group. The image of various peasants, working together and off each other to continue their own daily lives, made them proud of their duties.

"Wow...!" Robin, her eyes bright and wide, held her mouth open in a gleeful expression. She giggled as she looked around at the amazing sights before her. The shop selling pies, the cart with the fancy hats, the big castle in the distance, it was all so exciting! "This place is so big!"

"Yeah," Chrom said in agreement, holding a proud tone. He felt good that all of the hard work that he and his sisters did paid off. The city was clean, happy, well fed, and protected. The stone streets weren't littered with garbage, the simple homes weren't falling apart at the seams, and the people weren't calling for the blood of the aristocracy. It was good morale boost to the party, seeing people living peacefully and happily.

"Let's get to the barracks!" Sully cheered out, her horse rearing with excitement. The clack of metallic horseshoes on stone road made them all flinch. Sully didn't seem to care though, wearing a smirk.

"Right!" Chrom ordered, his cape fluttering, "Everyone, let's move ou-!"

"Oh my gods!" Lissa interrupted her brother with a squeaky burst of energy. "There's Emmeryn!"

The group looked to see a radiant woman, surrounded by guards, walking through the streets. Her very aura gave off a divine feeling, as though she was a goddess among men. Her long cloak was drifting through the wind as the woman shook hands with the various peasants, all rushing to meet their leader. She wore a bright smile, trying to disarm the nervous tension that her people held at her presence. Her guards even seemed friendly, politely talking with the common folk and even shaking a few hands themselves. Their armor clanked and clamored on the stone road, but it was drowned out by the happy cheers and revelry. The horse that she rode on even seemed majestic, its coat pure white and clean. Its own armor was light and more for decoration, a simple tunic with various symbols on it that related to her family's house.

"She's really pretty!" Robin said with excitement. Her eyes were glued to Emmeryn, unable and unwilling to place them anywhere else. To her, Emmeryn looked like the spitting image of one of the princesses in the story books that Lissa would read to her. In fact, she seemed familiar. She picked up on a few ques, looking over at the regal woman. The blonde hair, almost white, seemed to peak her interest. She looked over at Lissa, still gushing over Emmeryn, and noticed that her hair was light as well. But what grabbed her attention the most was the birthmark on Emmeryn's head. It was of a symbol that she couldn't describe. It was strange, alien. To say that it was a crescent would be wrong, as it was more than just that. But the important detail was that the _exact same symbol _was on Chrom's arm.

"Why are you looking at my shoulder?" Chrom asked, unsure of why Robin was staring at him for the last five minutes. Her tiny tongue peaked from her mouth as she mentally pieced the puzzle together.

"Do you know that lady?" Robin asked, still looking at the symbol. She turned her head, scanning over the others as they were distracted by the fanfare. Frederick was covered in armor, beyond his head, and had nothing visible. Sully had her arms uncovered, but they were clean of any symbols. Virion was the same as Sully. Lissa's dress covered her body, excluding her hands and head.

Chrom looked to his Brand. He could tell that Robin picked up on that. He gave a sigh. He knew he would have to address it soon, hell they were going straight to the castle. Chrom just hoped that it could have waited a bit longer. He didn't even know why he thought that, he just did. Maybe it was because she was so young, she would freak out or start treating them all differently. All he knew was that it was giving him a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yeah, we know her," Chrom said unsurely, trying to find the right words to use. He had to ease into it subtly and carefully.

"She's the best big sister ever!"

Or he could be like Lissa and bleat it out like an idiot.

"Sister?" Robin asked curiously. She put a finger to her mouth, humming as she once again pondered the answer. "So you are her family?"

"Yes," Chrom's voice was wobbly. He felt like anything could go wrong at that moment. It was like being in a field where a single step would cause you to explode. Or having to endure Sully's infamous cooking _while she was watching_. He had to maneuver carefully. "Lissa and I are her younger siblings."

"That's good," Robin simply said, "she looks really nice."

"She is," Frederick piped in. "She is the Exalt of the land, and a damn good one at that."

"Exalt...?" Robin looked up at Chrom, hoping he would add context to the weird word. The man went stiff as a board, trying to avoid the gaze of the girl. The moment of truth was there.

"It means that she is the queen," Chrom said, readying himself for whatever was about to occur.

"That's cool!" Robin began giggling excitedly. "So you're the king?"

"N-No," Chrom became nervous once again. He could deal with leading thousands into battle. With inspiring young men and women to fight in his sister's name. But the minute he was left with a child, he fell apart. Everything he knew was shot through the head, forcing him into alien territory. "I'm more like a prince than the king."

"Okay," Robin understood the awkwardly said explanation. She buried her head into Kitty's, feeling nervous as the Exalt approached them. The woman towered over her, rattling Robin's nerves relentlessly. Emmeryn had abandoned her horse, seeing her brother and sister in the streets.

"Chrom," Emmeryn said, her voice soothing and comforting. The mere sound of it made Robin less nervous. "It is good to see you and Lissa again."

"You as well," Chrom said with a nod. He felt Robin hide behind his leg, her tiny arms clinging to him. He could hear occasional whimpers, the girl obviously being intimidated by his sister. He watched as Emmeryn crouched down, meeting Robin at eye level.

"Hello," she said in that same, calm voice, "what is your name?"

Robin merely squeaked out an attempt at an answer before she slid herself further out of sight, her face bright red. Emmeryn gave a warm laugh before looking up to Chrom.

"She seems to like you!" Emmeryn laughed once more, never raising her voice above that chilled and relaxing level.

"Yes..." Chrom looked to the ground. "We need to talk later, when we are out of the street." His eyes juggled around between the onlookers, trying to get something for their gossip later.

"Of course," Emmeryn stood up again, giving a calm nod to her brother. "We shall discuss everything tonight." Her tone seemed to imply that she knew what the subject was going to be. "For now, rest. You must all be weary from your travels."

"Right," Chrom answered with a less refined nod, belonging more to the soldier in him than the royal. "We're off to the barracks now," Chrom looked down to the little girl, still shaking behind his leg, "Robin, I need you to let go of me."

She did just that, instantly flying her arms to the stuffed cat hanging on the leather strap Frederick made for her, designed to keep toy hung against her.

"You really don't like strangers, do you?" Chrom asked teasingly, earning a smack against his thigh from Robin. Though it did little damage.

"To the barracks then?" Frederick asked his charge, his horse getting restless.

"Yes," Chrom said with another nod, "to the barracks."

* * *

The barracks of the Shepherds was more of a giant room full of supplies, stinking of old wood and paper. Various historical paintings decorated the room, along with suits of armor on stands and hung weaponry. The room was warm thanks to the powerful fireplace, crackling and snapping the firewood with the flames. The Shepherds sat in wooden chairs, each creaking due to the weight of their equipment or due to the age of the wood. Chrom stood on his feet, looking at the members of his special unit.

Along with the people that was with him during the journey, new faces littered the room.

There was Stahl, the... average soldier. He made such an unintimidating presence that it was hard to take him very seriously. His armor was colored green, the paint peeling off as he moved around. His short brown hair gave off an atmosphere, one that screamed "Look how generic I am!". His appetite was the only thing worth noting. He was constantly hungry, always talking about meals and dinner plans.

The one who Stahl talked with was Sumia, the klutzy gray haired woman. She was young and pretty, her hair reaching a bit past her shoulders, but not too much. Her armor was a light magenta, almost dyed that way. As once noted, she was a complete klutz. She couldn't walk down the hall without tripping on her own feet. She had suffered multiple concussions, broken noses, skull fractures, and outright dislocated bones due to her clumsiness. Still, she meant well, and was a kind person to any one she met. Not including people trying to kill her, of course.

"Yo!" an arrogant voice called out as it entered the room, "The Teach is here!"

That was Vaike, the blonde brute, and self-declared rival of Chrom. The only detail worth noting beyond his arrogance was his lack of a shirt. But that was also a factor of his pride, as his bare chest was his attempt at charming women; most were able to ignore his advances and leave him with a bruised ego and eye.

"Are you really gonna start calling yourself 'Teach' now?" Lissa asked sarcastically. She always tried to not bully the ax-swinging warrior, but he really made it hard not to at least tease him from time to time. Especially since he constantly challenged her brother to duels and fights, though he always lost them without so much as getting a scratch on Chrom.

"Hell yeah!" Vaike declared while showing off his bicep. "The Teach's back in-!"

"Lissa!" a feminine voice shrieked.

Out of nowhere, Vaike was pushed against the wall by a woman wearing an excessive amount of makeup. Her clothing was clean and unwrinkled, looking to cost a small fortune. Her hands gripped a small personal umbrella as she ran to the twin-tailed princess.

"Oh, I was beside myself with worry!" the woman said, giving Lissa a bone-crushing hug. "You were not injured, were you?"

"Geez, Maribelle," Lissa choked out from the death-grip, "I can handle a battle or two!"

"It's simply the travel that gets her," Chrom piped in with a chuckle. Lissa merely responded by sticking her tongue out once more.

The woman known as Maribelle released her friend, scuffing the dust from both of their dresses, and took a seat with the other Shepherds. Maribelle was from a well known house in Ylisstol. But despite her, no doubt lavish, upbringing, she managed to become a selfless and kind woman. However, she did have an obsession over appearances and etiquette. She was well versed in the gossip of the nobles and worried over the rumors about her own family, though she denied that she thought they held any weight.

"Alright," Stahl said, "so what's the special announcement you called us for?"

Chrom scanned his eyes across the chairs, noticing one empty spot.

"Where's Miriel?" he asked, looking at the empty chair.

"She left a message," Stahl explained, "she can't make it."

"What's the message?" Lissa asked, furrowing her brow at the thought that Miriel would be missing from the meeting.

"That she was leaving a message," Stahl said deadpanned, "and that she can't make it."

"Guessing the words were a bit too big to remember?" Sully asked, leaning back in her chair. Stahl confirmed it with a nod.

"As long as you got the basic point," Chrom approached Stahl and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He felt somewhat relieved that the mage would be gone. No doubt she would try to experiment on Robin, trying to find out why he would put a child to the sensitive position as tactician. It was unavoidable, the two bound to meet each other eventually, but he would rather keep it to _eventually_. Despite her love of logic and reasoning, when the woman wanted to find out something, nothing would sway her from her task.

"Alright," Chrom began, clearing his throat before continuing, "everyone. The reason I have called you all hear is to announce that we have a new member." Chrom allowed for the curious murmuring to proceed for a few moments, quickly extinguishing it with a raise of his hand. "Not only is she incredibly gifted in battle, but she has a mind that can out-think all of our best strategists, even in the midst of battle." He admitted that he was embellishing Robin's talents a tad bit, but he felt that it was necessary. Considering how they will react to the age difference, they need every reason to put their trust into Robin. They had not seen what he saw. They would not understand the value in her.

"What's her name?" Stahl asked, his hand raised in the air.

"Her name is Robin," Chrom answered, mentally trying not to drop the bomb right there. "Lissa, Frederick, and I found her not far from a local village. She helped us fight off the bandits that were raiding there, and the strange new foe that you will soon be briefed about." He ordered the military advisers to explain the strange, undead creatures that Chrom had fought a few days prior. Especially due to the rumors that more were spotted in Ylisse that he heard on the way to the castle.

"So the Teach gets to win the heart of another soon-to-be-fan of his?" Vaike asked with a cocky grin, raising his own hand.

Though it was meant as a joke, the line caused Chrom's face to darken. His mental war on how to address the glaring issue was getting worse. He considered merely introducing her to everyone, but he knew that would scare her. She wasn't comfortable with strangers, even if they were friends of his. She needed to be acclimated to the Shepherds slowly, not pushed into the deep end immediately.

"My apologies. Chrom?" the ice-cold voice of Miriel said, entering the meeting room. Her robes flowed in the draft, wisps of air causing the hanging ends to snap in the air. Her red hair was short, making a bowl shape. Her glasses hung from her nose, which she occasionally pushed up as they slid. In one hand was an old tome, reeking of mold and ink. In the other was the shaking hand of a little girl, Robin.

"_Shit! I thought she went to Lissa's room!_" Chrom cursed to himself, biting his inner lip.

"I meant no inconvenience," Miriel began, her tone professional and almost emotionless, "But I found this young offspring wandering in the library of the castle. I arrived here when she claimed to have been acquainted to you and our companions."

Robin was quaking with fright, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. Occasional whimpers left her lips as the strange woman gripped her hand. It didn't hurt, but the robed stranger frightened her beyond capacity.

"Yes..." Chrom said slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor, "bring her here."

Miriel released the girl's hand, who took the opportunity to sprint to Chrom. Robin once again hid behind his leg, trying to avoid the eyes of the strangers in the room. Her face was bright red in embarrassment, her eyes dripped tears in fear. Did she get Chrom in trouble with his friends? She hoped she didn't.

"Who's the girl?" Vaike asked in shock. What was a kid doing that close to Chrom? There was no way that... "She yours?"

"Wh-What!?" Chrom exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "Of course not!"

"Good!" Vaike gave a loud and boisterous laugh. "'Cause the Teach ain't gonna slow down because your a baby-daddy now, you hear? You get the pure Vaike! No protection or-!"

"Vaike, silence yourself!" Maribelle ordered, smacking him over the head with her umbrella, ending the blonde man's boast. "Now!" she began, noticeably calmer, "Do you care to explain why a young girl has attached herself to your leg?"

"R-Right..." Chrom trailed off, having no idea where to even begin. "This girl is... is..." He regretted ever thinking that he could go through with something as idiotic as making a _seven year old_ his tactician. No doubt that the Shepherds that didn't already know were going to question his sanity, though he was uncertain that the ones that did know weren't doing the same thing.

"Robin," Sully cut in, saving Chrom from his awkward silence, "and she's gonna be helpin' out with the strategics and stuff."

"I'm sorry... what?" Stahl looked around, trying to see if it was an elaborate prank they all set up. A kid in charge of tactics? There was no way that was possible.

"That is correct," Chrom said with a cough, gathering his nerve together. "This is Robin." He pushed the small girl out from behind him, giving the Shepherds a full view of their new tactician. Robin gave a small gasp before trying to run back behind Chrom, whose strong hand kept her from retreating back.

"This is a joke, right?" Maribelle asked, looking Chrom dead in the eye. The gaze shot a chill down his back, shaking him to his core.

"N-No," Chrom once again felt his nerve crumble, "it is not. As I said, her intellect is beyond that of a normal child. She is able to read through books that would take grown adults weeks in the span of a few hours." He tapped Robin on the shoulder, getting her attention. "How many pages were in '_Advanced Valmese Tactics: Volume One_'?" he asked Robin.

The young girl gulped, still shivering like a leaf in the dead of winter.

"Tw-Two thousand, three hundred and fifty-seven..." Robin said nervously.

"And how many were in '_Tactics and Geography_'?"

"F-Four thousand and seven hundred..."

"'_Proper Weapon Maintenance_'?"

"One thousand, four hundred and twenty."

"So the kid can remember how many pages were in a book," Vaike cut in, ending the in-between they had, "that doesn't prove that she can handle military tactics!"

Chrom merely bent down to Robin, feeling her pull on his cape. He heard the words she whispered to him, knowing how to prove her worth.

"You have twenty-seven gold pieces in your pocket, a carving knife, and a picture of yourself to admire later," Chrom said, moving face-to-face with Vaike. "She knew all that when she first _glanced _at you." He looked to Sumia. "You have three pieces of paper in your pocket, two being cooking recipes and the other a receipt to a blacksmith." Then to Stahl. "You have two love-letters written by the clothing shop sisters, and a slice of an apple." Finally, to Miriel. "You are holding a book that was written two hundred years ago, and you're wearing a necklace of Naga underneath your robes."

The Shepherds were speechless at the display, including even Sully, Lissa, and Frederick. They never knew Robin could do something like that. The idea that she could take inventory of their belongings from pure sight was something that was... beyond explanation.

"So know you see how valuable she can be," Chrom said, walking back to Robin. "We can't afford to lose someone of her skill level, not with what's on the horizon."

"I-I'm sorry," Sumia held her head in her hands, "this is just insane...!"

"To be able to take inventory of my belongings..." Miriel spoke aloud, mystified at what had happened.

"What about Maribelle?" Lissa offered excitedly, looking to Robin with a childish grin. "What does she have in those pockets?"

"It is rude to invade a lady's privacy!" Maribelle threatened, her umbrella raised and ready to strike.

"An orange..." Robin said, her face bright red.

"That's it...?" Lissa asked, disappointed at the answer.

"It is a snack, thank you very much," Maribelle retorted, her own face red. No one knew why she was so embarrassed to have an orange with her, and frankly no one cared. The bigger issue was staring them in the face.

"So this kid can take shop of everyone's stuff with a look?" Sully asked, trying to get the situation into words.

"It seems so," Chrom answered, full of shock himself. The idea that Robin could perform such an act was baffling. Trained strategists would need time and excessive training to pull off such a feat. So the idea that a young child could pull it off was certainly worth a second glance.

"M-My lord!" a guard shouted, sprinting into the meeting room in a panic. "Risen have been sighted on the main road!"

"Risen?" Sumia's face contorted in confusion.

"_I guess it's now or never..._" Chrom thought to himself, looking down at Robin.

He guessed that it would come to this. The enemy was certainly not wasting anytime waiting for them to get used to the idea of using Robin. And, quite frankly, they didn't have the luxury to deny her services. After what he saw that night, he knew that a storm was coming. A ball of ice settled in his gut as he gave a heavy sigh.

"_Time to throw her in the deep end._"

* * *

_A/N_

Yeah... I feel like I should apologize for the previous chapter. I got desperate for humor and threw in shitty jokes, kind of a last resort thing. Sorry 'bout that.

But here's hoping this chapter was better! Definitely more talky than before, introducing characters and explaining how Robin can be useful. And we actually meet Emmeryn too, so if you like her than you'll be happy to know that she makes more appearances! Yay...! But I don't really have much to say. Last chapter wasn't too good, so I am hoping that this one redeems it.

Oh! I changed my username. Mainly because by the fifth time someone asked me if I was Plague of Gripes, I felt like a creepy stalker. I hope this new name is more identifiable and enjoyable.

And one more thing, **fuck **writing for Miriel. I can't deal with that complex vocabulary... I'll try, but please forgive me if it seems to drift into basic speech from time to time. I'm kinda Tarantino-esque like that. I like writing what someone would say in a normal conversation. Until next time, this has been Worst saying: I am no longer Plaguegriped.


	6. Chapter 6

The stench of decaying flesh alerted the party that they reached their destination. Right across the small, simple bridge was a pocket sized group of Risen, the newly dubbed undead beasts sprouting up across Ylisse.

Chrom's eyes fixated on Robin, who was sleeping peacefully against him on the horse they shared. He could not deny that he was worried. This was the first official battle she would be in. The battles before hand just happened to be pure chance, them stumbling into a situation they could not ignore. But this was the shot to prove Robin's worth to the Shepherds. If something went wrong, if a single man gets injured or killed on her watch, they would never trust her as their tactician.

"_But she'll pull it off._" Chrom repeated that thought in his head as the pack of Risen took notice of the small band of soldiers. He turned his head to the companions behind him, taking note of the absence of Miriel (who fell behind due to a few scholarly meetings requiring her attention), Sumia (who knocked herself unconscious halfway through the march), and Maribelle (who left to deal with tensions on the Plegian border). The rest were there, all ready to get the battle going.

"Hey," Chrom called out, gently shaking Robin from her nap, "we need you to wake up now."

The small girl slowly opened her eyes, yawning softly as she took note of her surroundings, mainly the rotting corpses not far ahead.

"M-Monsters..." Robin whimpered, clutching onto her toy. She shook with fright, seeing the flesh fall from the bones of the decayed beasts. Their howls made her eyes fill with tears, making her little heart pound in terror.

"That's right," Chrom said simply, rubbing the scared girl's head, a cold scowl on his face. "What do you see?"

Robin went wide-eyed at the question, unable to comprehend what Chrom asked her. She could see the monsters. She just said that.

"What do they have?"

Something clicked in her mind, even though she could barely tell what was going on. Before she knew it, she was already describing the inventory of the creatures ahead.

"Three archers, four ax-men, three with lances, and..." Robin paused as she scanned the field ahead one last time, "six with swords."

"Alright. Advice?" Chrom was already in battle-mode, adrenaline flowing in his system.

"You and Frederick charge ahead," Robin said hesitantly, worry building in her voice, "Sully and Stahl support you while Virion protects Vaike and Lissa."

"Wait, why does Vaike need protection?" Chrom asked in confusion.

"He doesn't have a weapon."

"_That idiot forgot his ax again..._"

"Alright," Chrom dismounted his horse, leaving Robin sitting atop it nervously. He turned towards his men, unsheathing his sword. "You heard the girl!" he called out proudly, a smirk on his face, "Let's get started!"

* * *

Emmeryn sat in her chambers, pondering the day's events as she sipped her tea. The chair she sat in was comfortable, helping ease the stress of the day. The fireplace crackled and popped as she gathered her thoughts. The parade went well, her people happy and worry free when they saw her ride down the street. She was glad that she managed to see Chrom and Lissa, despite it being only for a few moments. She has been barely able to talk with them ever since her coronation. Though... that did bring another issue to mind.

"_Oh Chrom... You poor fool..._"

The publicity will be bad. People will talk, and spread nasty rumors. Worse due to the girl's origins. Her brother will be compared to their father, a psychopath who did what he wanted when he wanted. While it would be extremely unjustified, that won't keep people from thinking it.

"_A Plegian bastard..._"

Emmeryn never thought Chrom would be dumb enough to have a child without her knowing. He had to expect that his little secret would come out eventually. Especially with the girl's nationality quickly becoming an unpopular group.

"_He should be thankful that she looks nothing like him!_" Emmeryn hissed to herself, her frustration reaching a breaking point.

She was right though. If news that a child in a small village had an uncanny resemblance to a certain high-lord got out, there would be no end of it at every ball and party in Ylisse.

"_But now he's taken her with him..._"

That buffoon could have at least told her... She could help him. Have her council help quell the stories the nobles are bound to tell. Still, no sense in brooding over it. Her brother clearly had a reason to take the girl with him. He no doubt has dealt with countless orphans, losing their families to bandit attacks or some other calamity. So for him to just take a girl, who seemed oddly attached to him, can only have one explanation.

"_And he found her near the ransacked village._"

The mother must have died in the attack, leaving their daughter alone without him. Chrom always did have a flare for the dramatic. She guessed that he felt that he owed his mistress for leaving them for so long.

"_But he knows that we do not care who he marries!_" The venomous thought shot through her. His fault still gave her a headache, merely foreshadowing what was to come.

They couldn't keep her hidden. Miriel had already found her in the library. The workers would ask, visitors would ask, the rest of the Shepherds would ask.

"_Oh dear sweet gods, may Cordelia never find out..._" she shivered at the thought. Even the worst torture one can endure would be heaven compared to what that psychotically jealous knight would do.

But something else made her shiver. Something that she only realized then. The girl had a cold aura about her, one that you can only notice looking back. Emmeryn felt something she hadn't felt in a while, she was _afraid_.

"_What could it mean...?_"

Chrom was going to talk to her later that night, and they would sort the whole thing out. Maybe she was just afraid of what he was going to say, that he would confirm her suspicions? Maybe he would try to lie, despite his complete inability to. Maybe, and she prayed this, that she was wrong. Maybe she misinterpreted what she sensed and came up with the little narrative out of paranoia.

"_Please, gods, may that be it._"

Tensions between the Plegian people and Ylisse were paper-thin. So something as controversial as _her brother having a Plegian child_ would spiral the two superpowers into a war. Gangrel was practically clawing the walls waiting for a reason to start a conflict. But she couldn't have that. Her father had done enough damage to them both, and war was the last thing Plegia needed.

"_I can only pray that Chrom won't do anything stupid with her..._"

She at least hoped that he kept the child away from battle.

* * *

"We are victorious!" Frederick cheered, impaling the last Risen with his lance.

The plan went off perfectly. Especially with Miriel's entrance, and Vaike's ax making a sudden return. The two events were highly connected.

Chrom raised his sword and gave a proud cheer as the Shepherds gathered around him. They were all tired, but completely unharmed. Lissa healed every wound they had, and most were able to easily dodge the attacks thrown at them.

"Hell ye—OUCH!"

Vaike was the exception. The multiple slashes across his body, and more than one arrow sticking out of him, should have made Vaike a corpse himself. But he was probably too proud, or stupid, to die.

"Gross!" Lissa screeched in disgust. "Vaike, quit getting blood on me!"

"I'm not doing it on purpose!" Vaike said as he defended his pride. He held the wound on his arm, a large cut caused by one of the Risen's axes, as blood shot out like a fountain.

Chrom had a smile on his face as his friends celebrated their victory. He had no doubt that they would accept Robin as their tactician now. He looked to his horse, where she laid sleeping peacefully.

"_That girl sure does sleep a lot,_" he chuckled to himself.

In a way, he was thankful for the battle. When he no doubt would have to explain to Emmeryn why a child would handle the army's strategics, the rest of the Shepherds could vouch for her behalf. Three victories are hard to argue against.

"What was that?" Lissa asked suddenly, her gaze shooting to a nearby hill. She thought that she had heard something.

"You hear something?" Chrom approached his sister, seeing her tense up as the sound repeated.

"It came from there!" Lissa exclaimed, pointing towards the hill. Her feet moved quickly as she made her way to the hill, Chrom following close behind.

"I didn't hear anything," Chrom admitted, his eyes scanning the terrain around them.

"It was right over here!" Lissa reached the top of the hill to see an injured pegasus, its wing flapping limply as it reared in pain.

"A pegasus? Here?" Chrom could not keep the amazement from his face. He always liked the animals, they never ceased to give him a sense of wonder.

"Poor thing..." Lissa watched the creature try to fly, its wing flapping unevenly with its other. "We should help it," Lissa offered, looking to her brother.

"It will certainly be helpful to have another pegasus with us," Chrom said, nodding to Lissa.

They approached the pegasus, which merely aggravated the wild animal. It rose to its hind-legs, flailing its hooves wildly. Every step they took increased the risk of being brained by the large animal. They finally backed off when one of the hooves got too close to Chrom's face for comfort.

"It's panicking, and we can't get anywhere close to it," Lissa said sadly, being forced to watch the pegasus suffer.

"If only Sumia was here..." Chrom said bitterly. The klutz was renowned for her skill with animals, so it would be a complete none issue for her. But until she woke up, realized they left her in the street, and caught up to them, they were stuck.

"C-Captain!" the sweet, familiar voice of the gray-haired knight called out to them. That was followed by the panicked yelp of the woman, and a hard impact to the ground. "Ow... That one really hurt..."

"Oh great..." Chrom said tiredly, "Sumia's here..."

It wasn't that he hated the young knight. It was that the constant sounds of shrieking woman and thuds were never going to leave his head. His dreams were often full of thoughts about her, and not in the good way. They were mainly about how they would have to explain how she died falling down stairs, onto a sword, hitting her head on a table on the way, or outright just broke her neck on the way. None of them were fun to think of, as she was a sweet and kind woman who genuinely wanted to help the Shepherds. But until she could keep her feet on the ground, and her face off of it, she would always be an exhausting presence.

"Oh good," Lissa began, giving a warm smile to the clumsy knight, "we need your help, Sumia."

"Give me a second..." Sumia said, still face-first on the ground. "I'm trying to will away the pain..."

"You break your nose again?" Chrom asked, offering a hand to the girl.

"N-No!" Sumia denied, embarrassed to have her leader see her in that state. She was thankful he couldn't see her face, it being bright red, and not just because of the blood. She picked herself off the ground, gripping her nose with a hand as Lissa waved her staff over it. The sounds of snapping bone made her queasy, but the numbing comfort that followed was hard to ignore.

"So you think you can help the thing?" Chrom asked, gesturing towards the panicked pegasus.

"I'll certainly try," Sumia said, not putting too much confidence into her abilities. The state the animal in was bad, already being agitated by the siblings' attempt earlier. The wing was badly injured as well, bone sticking out from the feathered flesh and only getting worse as it flapped wildly. Sumia raised her hand to the creature, gently scratching its snout. The effect was immediate as the pegasus calmed down with in mere moments, melting into the hands of the young woman. It ceased its flapping, its wings drooping down its sides, clearly too exhausted to even keep them up.

"Wow!" Lissa giggled excitedly. " You really are good with animals!"

"It was nothing," Sumia said with a smile, mounting the animal. "Especially with such a sweetheart like this!" She began scratching its neck, praising it for listening to her commands.

"Wow...!" Chrom heard a familiar voice say from behind.

He turned to see Robin, gently rubbing her eyes. She had an excited smile on her face as she scanned the pegasus before her, unable to keep her enthusiasm down. Robin took her usual spot behind Chrom's legs, nervous at the large beast that Sumia was riding. Though she was clearly intimidated, she was also curious, taking regular peaks from her hiding spot.

Sumia took notice of this, taking the beast to the little girl. She dismounted the pegasus, staying close to its side.

"Do you want to meet her?" Sumia asked Robin kindly, wearing a warm smile. Robin answered with a nervous nod.

Robin hesitantly left her hiding spot, ready to jump back in a moment's notice. The majestic animal seemed to stare down the girl, making her regret her choice with every passing second. She saw Sumia take an apple from her pocket, giving it to Robin.

"Give her this," Sumia explained simply, still keeping the same smile.

Robin took the fruit from her hand, holding it up to the pegasus. The creature munched on the snack, eating out of the girl's hand.

"It tickles!" Robin giggled excitedly, feeling the pegasus' lips brush against her palm.

The pegasus nuzzled Robin, rubbing its head against the girl's, causing her to giggle more.

"I think it likes you," Chrom said proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well," Sumia began, remounting the pegasus, "I should get her looked at. That wing is a mess, and we need to get back to the capital."

"Okay..." Robin said, disappointed at having to say goodbye to her new friend.

"When we get back, and she gets better, you two can play together all you want," Sumia offered sweetly. Robin's face glowed from anticipation.

"Good point," Chrom pointed out, "we should be heading back to Ylisstol soon. No doubt Emmeryn would like to hear of this."

"Do you really think that telling her that you got a _little girl _to plan the battle will end well?" Lissa asked, a mixture between sarcasm and worry in her voice.

"We already have enough evidence to counter her worries," Chrom said, shrugging his shoulders. "Though the conversation certainly isn't going to be fun."

* * *

_A/N_

Hey guys... *sigh*

You may notice how short this chapter is in comparison to the others. Well, there is a reason for that. I kinda quit half way through my plan for it. :I

While I was writing, I just hit a rut. By the time I reached the end, I was mentally _gone_. I couldn't get myself over the hump that formed every time I loaded up my software and tried to continue. That is also the reason for the massive time jump between updates. That, and I'm trying to relight the spark of creativity by planning out other stories (I know, shut up) but I think I'm just losing the passion. That, and I've barely had time to actually write due to life and shit. I know that the minute I officially say "This story's dead, don't expect any updates anymore!", I'll get a million different ideas of how to continue in my head, so that won't happen. All I'm saying is, prepare for **_months _**to pass if necessary.

So TLDR: Have patience.

Though it will feel good to get this off my chest, have one less thing to worry about. I'll probably due a Persona story (to all those who are fans of that series, which you _**should be**_!), and probably dabble in an Shin Megami Tensei one, since I just started playing 4. Basically, I have a lot of ideas in my head, and I can't focus on just one.


	7. Chapter 7

_My dreams are always the same._

_I'm in complete darkness. I can't see anything. Not a sound is made. I am lying on the ground, clutching my legs. The sound of flowing water breaks the silence. A thick, inky oil floods around me. It pulls my body into its crushing embrace. The fluid feels like gelatin, sinking into my nose, my mouth, my ears. A pang hits my stomach, making me want to vomit. I feel poisoned. A dark voice whispers in my ears. It says that I am corrupted. It scares me. _

_The liquid is warm, rocking me into another sleep. My eyes can't open, weighed down by the ocean on top of my lids. My body is stained by the fluid. My hair turns black. My skin is burned by every drop. My tears merely become part of the nightmare. I can hardly breath. I feel my mind being broken down by the ocean. Vast mountains of intellect torn down to mere pebbles of knowledge. The voice continues its taunting._

"_**You're a monster!**" it shouts. _

_I can hardly form a response. My mind is reduced to that of an infant's. I barely understand what it screamed at me. All I can remember is the loud noise. It scares me. I want it to stop. The fluid warms my abdomen, comforting me slightly. _

"_**Good job!**" a comforting voice tells me. I like that voice. It is nice. _

"_**We have to go!**" a scared voice calls to me. It sounded panicked. I can never understand why. The ocean never lets me. Its thick, slimy tendrils crush my mind any chance it had. I could never find out its secrets. The ocean was alive. I had to remember this. The ocean was alive. It thought, it planned, it wanted to win... **something**. Another pang hit my stomach. Bad thoughts. I can't keep having those. Bad thoughts._

"R-_" _

_I hear the voices again. They want me to wake up. I don't want to. The ocean was right. I was poisoned, toxic. I would corrupt them too. I don't want that. I don't. So I have to sleep. When I think too much, I need to sleep. Else, they would see the borders of the mask I have. My waking self is unaware of the mask. I am innocent in this. But the ocean demands me to sleep. _

"-i-!_"_

_They want me to wake up. I can't. I don't want to. If they saw what was behind the mask, it would scare them. They would leave me behind. Darkness comes into me. They don't know this. That is why I cannot wake. _

"Robin!_"_

_I open my eyes._

* * *

_A/N_

Holy shit, this was short. I know that. But I wanted to at least pump **something **out for the poor people waiting on a chapter. It'll be soon. I'm working on some other stories before I get this one. Plus side, it is planned. Just need to type something out. For now, treat this as a teaser. You now know why Robin constantly sleeps, and **what **she dreams about. Not great. Kind of a fucked up kid.


	8. Chapter 8

The streets were filled with celebration and fanfare as Chrom and company passed through, on their way to the castle. The humble, wooden buildings, filled with cheering villagers, creaked and moaned as movement flooded each one. Everyone was trying to catch a glimpse of the Shepherds as they made their way through. Streamers and confetti flew through the sky, glowing due to the sun's bright light. Whistles and hoots drowned out any other sound around them.

Chrom felt Robin shift, taking her place on the horse with him. He kept her relatively out of sight, the cloak bundled up and covering any skin or hair. Instead, she looked more like a purple sack on the neck of the powerful steed. A slight whimper broke Chrom's concentration, his eyes darting down to Robin. She'd been having a lot of nightmares recently, including right then and there. He felt like punching himself every time that small voice squeaked in fear. Every trot of the horse brought them closer to the castle in the distance, and made Chrom less and less sure of what he was doing.

"_I'll talk with Emm about... whatever this is._"

He was feeling more and more like an idiot every hour. Of course it was never going to work. Robin was still a kid, and whatever he was making her do was not a kid's job. But every time thoughts of self doubt appeared, he could only question why he had them. Robin proved herself more than once. She was useful, and could lead men into battle without any causalities at the end. So why was he getting cold feet? Just because she was short and played with a stuffed cat? War was going to demand a lot from all of them. He couldn't afford to make a few sentimental calls.

"Chrom?" he heard Lissa ask from the wagon beside him, tending to the wounded.

"Y-Yeah," Chrom said, shaking his head of the thought. He saw Lissa scan him over, sliding up and down, looking for inconsistencies.

"I've been trying to talk to you for a few minutes," Lissa said while bandaging Vaike's arm once again. For some reason, his wound kept bleeding through every bandage she applied to him. "You stared into space way too long. It was kinda creepy."

"Sorry," Chrom said, his face turning slightly red. Another whimper took his attention. He rubbed the cloak with a free hand, the other on the reigns of the horse. He tried to rub Robin's head without making obvious to the crowd, so he had to estimate where her head was.

"So what's the plan when we get to the castle?" Lissa asked, finished with fixing Vaike and now resting her arms on the sides of the wagon.

"I guess to talk to Emmeryn about Robin, see what she thinks about this," Chrom said, shrugging his shoulders. The heat of the summer sun was killing him. Sweat poured from his head and down into his armor. Every movement set off a floodgate of sweat that drenched his body. The saddle felt like an oven, cooking his legs into sausages. He could only pray that Robin wasn't feeling too uncomfortable, being stuck in a stuffy robe the whole time. Maybe the cooks will give her ice cream or something when they get there.

"Okay, so here's a hypothetical," Lissa began wiping the blood from her hands with a rag before tossing it onto the wagon's floor, "say Emmeryn doesn't want to use Robin. Then what?"

"I guess..." Chrom had to think for a moment. What would she do? There was no way they could just shuck her off to an orphanage, not after all that time. Like it or not, Robin wanted to be with the Shepherds. Chrom needed to consider some kind of alternative. "I guess she could just stay at the castle, and help us from there."

"You mean direct battle without being _at the battle_?" Lissa repeated dryly. She knew Chrom didn't want to just abandon Robin, but he also needed to be realistic. There was no way Emmeryn would approve of a **child soldier**, and Chrom's alternative sounded as desperate as a drowning man clawing for the surface. Whoa. That was a super dark analogy, she just realized.

"I never really thought about if she'd say no," Chrom admitted, still petting Robin's head.

"Because you automatically assumed she'd take your side?" Lissa asked sarcastically.

"When you put it that way..."

* * *

The company arrived at the castle, horses and wagons filling up the elegant courtyard in a matter of seconds. Clanking armor and cheering soldiers drowned out the sounds of the villagers down in the city. The calming aura of the courtyard was enough to stop Robin's fidgeting. The robe slowly shuffled before her head poked out from an open space, looking at the massive walls of stone and iron. Her eyes glistened with excitement as a smile grew ever larger on her face. It was like out of one of those stories Lissa would tell her at camp.

Robin hopped down from the horse, trying to find any of the others amongst the mob of troops making their way to the barracks. She hugged Kitty tight against her small frame, and waddled through the mob of much larger bodies. Her lip quivered in fright as she scanned around her, trying to spot anyone she knew. Tears dotted her tiny eyes as she buried her face into Kitty's head. She trembled in fright as she realized that she wasn't ever going to find them again. She was lost forever!

"Robin!" she heard a voice call out to her. She turned and saw Frederick walking towards her, pushing through the crowd. The clanking alone shook her being, and sent shocks down her spine. Frederick offered an armored glove to the little girl, which she accepted without hesitation.

Frederick led Robin out of the way of the mob and towards the barracks, where the others were gathered. He was lucky that he spotted her when he did. If she panicked and moved further into the mass of soldiers, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to find her. He trusted Chrom had been simply exhausted from the battle earlier, and forgot to tell Robin to follow him. Mental strain can cause more damage than most think. That is why Frederick always tried to keep his mind sharp, along with his body. The housewives that attended his book-club meetings would agree with him on that.

The smaller hand in his grip felt so delicate that he was afraid to so much as pull, and risk tearing her arm clean off. Frederick hated children. Well, not really. He just hated the idea of himself having children. He was man of strict order and discipline. So having to shape another human being around that ideal was certainly not something he wanted to try. Children were chaotic, messy, undisciplined creatures that needed constant surveillance, something he could not provide due to his job and overall life style.

"I've brought her," Frederick said, approaching Lissa, who was standing outside the large, wooden door to the barracks. Lissa merely looked at him, tapping her foot. "Is there something wrong?"

"Look down," Lissa said simply.

Frederick did as he was told, and saw that Robin was nowhere in sight.

"Wh-What!?" Frederick hissed out, replaying the walk in his mind to see where she let go. His eyes went wide in panic as he ran back towards the now empty courtyard, trying to spot the small child.

"_Where could she have gone!?_"

* * *

Robin walked through the large, empty halls of the castle. Paintings of people she didn't recognize or know littered the ways. The only word she could use to describe the halls as a whole was 'fairy-tale'. Extravagant candles, paintings, dishes, tables, rugs, even doors filled the hallway before her. It was incredibly stuffy, the candles heating the air into a heavy, thick paste that clogged her nose. Robin couldn't help a small sneeze, wiping her nose with a handkerchief she had in her pants pocket.

Her steps echoed throughout the hallway. Door after door peaked her interest, but she was too afraid of opening them. They could have skeletons. Skeletons are scary...

Another set of footsteps started behind her. Robin jolted in fright as they got louder, getting closer every few moments. She looked around, trying to find something to hide behind. The footsteps got louder.

Robin decided to run down the hallway, her little legs carrying her as far as she could go. Her lungs were already screaming at her to stop, with some added help from her heart. The hall seemed endless as she tried to escape whatever it was that was behind her. She couldn't really guess why she was afraid of the steps. It could have been Chrom trying to find her. Or a ghost...

She decided that running from a hypothetical specter was better than risking it not being Chrom. Her eyes closed as she ran, trying to focus all of her energy into putting her legs to work. Her tiny shoes clacked against the floor she ran. Her robe flowed behind her like water, wafting through the air without any control. The robe flowed downwards, wrapping itself around her legs, and sending her falling to the floor. On the way down, Robin slammed against one of the tables in the hall. The smashing of an expensive looking bowl only signaled the end of the descent.

Robin could only sit on the floor, tears in her eyes, while trying to fix the bowl. Why did she run? She broke their bowl! It was all her fault... They were gonna be mad that she broke something...

So she did the only thing she could do. She cried.

Long wails filled the halls as Robin tried to wipe the burning tears away. She sniffled every few seconds, rubbing the sleeve of her robe against her nose. The flow from her eyes didn't cease, and only got worse. Her cries drowned out the ever encroaching sound of footsteps, now mere inches away.

"Wh-Whoa! What's a kid doing here?" an unfamiliar voice said in panic. The heavy groans of his armor surprisingly didn't stop the little girl, who was bawling her eyes out over a broken dish. The pieces lay scattered on the floor, far beyond repair, and the kid knew that. "Hey, do you need help?"

The girl ignored him and kept crying.

"Hello?"

Further crying.

"Great..." he said before picking the girl up. This caused further crying, and some thrashing. Shouts of 'ghost', 'monster', and 'monster-ghost' filled the man's ears. He was getting really tired of this bit.

"Look, kid!" he tried reasoning with the girl.

"Lemme go!" Robin continued fighting the stranger. Tiny punches rang off of his large armor, and kicks left her feet bruised and sore. Her face was bright red as she kept fighting, emotions over taking rational thoughts.

"Listen to me," the man began, "I'm gonna take you to Lady Emmeryn, okay?"

This calmed Robin down, at least a little bit more so than before. She knew that Emmeryn was Chrom and Lissa's sister. She would get her to them.

"So I need you to follow me, okay?" the man asked, putting Robin slowly back down onto the floor.

Robin gave a small nod as her feet touched the floor.

"But I guess I should ask you your name first?" the man said nervously, running his hand through the bowl-cut, brown head of hair he had.

"I-I'm Robin..." she responded, burying her face in Kitty's head.

"And what about your friend?" he was kind of thankful that he had a large family. Kids were easy to read when you've been around them for awhile.

"K-Kitty," Robin answered, unsure. Her head lifted slightly from her toy.

"Hey there, Kitty," the man began, holding out one of his gloved hands, "I'm Kellam! Nice to meet ya!"

A few awkward seconds of silence rang out. Kellam kept his hand out, hoping for Robin to at least giggle.

"Cats can't shake hands," Robin said.

Kellam just groaned.

"I know..."

* * *

_A/N_

Holy shit, TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE NIGHT!?

Well, to be fair, my other thing was already done. It just needed submitting. Also, I hope I'm not too rusty after not writing for awhile.

But anyway, an actual chapter! May the Great Gods of Gravania bless us all! What is Gravania? A nation I made up, I think.

That's pretty much it. Just some down time until the next couple battles, because that is when shit gets bad, and the war actually breaks out.

Until next time.


	9. Chapter 9

_Flashes of memories sped through her mind. Not even a second passed before the next image exploded in. A flurry of light, color, and sound swirled in her head. It was hard to find a concrete thought, some sort of stability to rest her mental state. She would see a young woman, a yipping dog, an old man, a hill covered with sand, nothing remained consistent._

* * *

"_My lord," she heard a rasping, growled voice state. _

_She found herself in the middle of a massive hall, decorated down to the last detail with extravagant and expensive items. Even the nails holding the exquisite paintings on the wall shined bright like jewels. Chairs crafted from ancient, high quality wood. Dishes made of silver carried large vegetables, fruits, and meats of all kind to the guests standing in the meeting place. There were not many in the massive, breath taking hall. Only five, altogether. A well-dressed king, who looked as though he did not sleep for the last few nights, sitting on a golden throne with red velvet lining for the seat; a woman with a menacing sneer standing beside him, never losing the smirk that sent chills down everyone's spines; Robin, who was dressed in her purple robe and playing with her toy cat quietly as she listened in on the conversation; a guard that was sent to watch her and make sure Robin did not make a scene; and finally, the mysterious stranger that arrived in the palace._

"_What business do you have here?" the king asked hostilely. His hand pressed against his forehead, trying to find relief from a near constant migraine. His head pounded like a war drum. Sweat poured from his brow, soaking the back of his chair and leaving a visible stain. He swore that he could hear a ringing in his ears as silence set in, a high pitched whine that made the headache worse._

"_My lord," the stranger repeated, dropping to a knee and bowing respectfully. His voice made Robin clutch Kitty closer to her chest. Something about it was **wrong**. "I apologize if I have inconvenienced you. I know you must be extremely busy."_

_What made him appear all the more threatening was how he was dressed. It was all black. His coat, cape, boots, pants, and even the hat on his head was as dark as ebony. The only thing that was not as dark as ink was the strange mask on his face. It was a bright white, ironically enough. But the mask did not help to relieve any tension the man gave. The nose was outstretched, looking like the beak of a bird. Robin sneezed as the pungent stench of herbs tickled her nose. In fact, the strange outfit reminded Robin of a bird in more ways than one. His cape was made entirely of pitch-black feathers, like a crow's. The wrappings on his hands, the only other things he wore that were not black, were a graying white, like the feet of a bird, and made his hands look like talons. That scraggled, sharp voice was like the shrill cry of a raven._

"_Just get on with it," the king commanded, fighting past another headache. He weakly waved a hand towards the strange man._

"_Alright," the stranger hissed out. His head panned to Robin, who watched the scene in hesitant excitement. His steps were light, but audible, much like a bird. The child nearly tore her toy in two when the strange man approached. That stink of herbs was all but nauseating. Mint and lemon assaulted her sinuses, but she was not able to sneeze. In fact, she was petrified. Bright, brown eyes stared at Robin from behind the mask. The long nose poked at Robin's chest at the slightest movement from either of them. "Would you like a candy?" _

_Robin nodded violently, her eyes wide and full of fear._

_One of his claws disappeared into his dark coat, and reemerged with a small, wrapped hard candy. It was concealed in a thin, paper wrapper that did nothing to hide the contents. A bright red disk of sugar called to Robin, who was hesitant to take it from his hand. _

"_It's cherry," the man said, his voice hurting her ears. Robin couldn't tell what the bird-man was thinking. Only that he was really creepy. Also that he stunk. It wasn't a smell like he didn't wash or stepped in something gross. It a really weird smell that reminded her of when she fell down the steps and scrapped her knee. The stink of blood was always her first thought, and it fit the man perfectly._

"_I think she's conning you for more," the woman said, giving a slight, menacing chuckle. Robin never liked her. She was always mean to her when no one was watching. She yelled, and even threw a plate at her once. That was only when they were alone. Whenever her parents were near, the lady acted the exact opposite. Always nice and helpful. "She's got a sweet tooth, that one."_

"_I know the feeling," the stranger himself laughed, his throat sounding shredded to pieces. "I'm the same, I admit."_

_Robin took the small candy, opening the wrapper and throwing the red disk into her mouth. He was right. It was cherry._

"_So are you here to give a child candy," the king said, frustration clear in his voice, "or do you have a real purpose?"_

"_I am curious myself," the woman spoke, a flirtatious, sultry voice making no attempt to be professional. "What does a fellow like you gain from meeting us?"_

"_I do have a purpose, yes," the man said, adjusting his coat. "You could say that I am looking for information, and that I would prefer to hear from the source itself."_

"_You decided to bother me over trivial gossip!?" the king barked. Clutching his skull as a migraine tortured him._

"_My travels make information gathered otherwise unreliable," the man explained. "I cannot say much beyond that, but it would be best to keep this chat peaceful. We have a little girl here, and all." The man gestured to Robin, who sucked on her candy in peace._

"_You were the one to request her here," the king ranted, standing up from his throne. His matted, dark red hair clung to his face, drenched in sweat. "I wish to know why you bother me with such matters right now! If you say one word that I do not find satisfactory, I will have your head on a pike before brunch!"_

_The man was silent. They could not see his face, it being completely covered by the mask and hat. The feathers on his cape stayed in place, despite how damaged they looked. All around his armor looked poorly maintained, as though he never took the time to have it repaired._

"_I will say this once," the man said as he walked back to Robin. "I wish to take the child with me."_

"_What?" the king asked in confusion, turning to the woman to his right. She only gave a shrug in confusion. "Why do you want a child?"_

"_Not **a **child," the man said, his rasping voice sending chills down Robin's spine. "This one."_

"_I would not recommend that one," the woman said cruelly, her arms crossed over her chest. "She's a bit of a whiner. You so much as try to talk her into going to bed and she'll cry buckets."_

"_Aren't all children like that?" the man countered, his mask turned to Robin. Tears were dotted in her eyes as she looked at the scary figure. She didn't want to go with him. He was scary... and smelly..._

"_Her father would never allow it," the king said as he returned to his seat. "She means a lot to him, and he is someone I'd rather not have be upset."_

"_I see," the man said, disappointment clear in his tone. "Well, it was just a whimsical thought. I never really expected much."_

"_So you decided to waste my time based on a whimsy?" the king clenched his teeth as pain shot through his nerves._

"_Essentially," the man admitted, turning to the large door which served as the entrance to the hall. "I hope you will change your mind before long. You would be well compensated."_

_The man left before any of them could come up with a response._

_Robin finished her candy and went back to playing with her doll, nibbling on the ears. The king and the woman stared at her as she did, trying to understand why she mattered to the stranger._

"_I will never understand foreigners," the king admitted, rising from his chair. He needed to meet his tactician and discuss the plans for war._

"_He certainly seemed foreign," the woman giggled, placing a hand over her mouth._

* * *

Morgan's eyes cracked open slowly, trying to fight going back to sleep and waking up simultaneously. His head pounded as the light from the sun hit his face. The warmth of his campfire died out long into the night, only smoldered embers remained. He was thankful it wasn't winter. That would have been horrible...

"_I need to get moving_," he thought to himself, getting to his feet before adorning his attire. A pitch-black cape, made of bird feathers, and matching hat and coat to boot. Black pants and boots finished the set, along with a white bird mask, concealing his face. The herbs in the beak helped keep the stench of decay on him from making him sick. Which was useful when Risen attacked.

"Oh geez..." he groaned to himself, looking down at the damaged book beneath him. Somewhere in the night, he rolled over in his sleep and drooled onto the book he was reading. The pages were completely soaked through, ink flowing from the paper and ruining the words. "Mother would kill me..."

He looked at the title of the book, and gave a sad chuckle. It was called: "**How To Talk Like a Badass: Volume One**". No more cryptic and weird Morgan for a while...

Morgan could only toss the book into the fire, letting it serve as fuel for a new flame. He could stay at that location for a few more days, but he needed to make more progress. He needed to find his mother, despite having no idea where she was, what she looked like, or even how he got to... wherever he was. All he knew was that he was in the past. That was the only thought he woke up with. No memories beyond the ones about studying with Mother, pulling pranks on her, and wanting to be a tactician like her. Everything else was a massive blur.

"_Still, it's not all bad_," Morgan thought as he retrieved a red candy from his pocket, and lifting the mask slightly, before popping it into his mouth.

He thought that he was close to finding her that day that the dream was about. It was when he arrived in Plegia and consulted the king there. Something in his gut told him it was the right place, but he had to snuff out that thought when he was told not to take the girl there. She seemed familiar, but he had no idea how. Maybe it was kindred spirit, or something stupid like that.

"Ah well," Morgan thought as he removed the mask entirely, setting it on the ground. He enjoyed the fresh air on his face.

"Just have to keep looking, I guess."

* * *

_A/N_

Yes, Morgan has finally made an appearance! I am sorry that I lied about the weekend thing. Bloodborne is an alluring, yet all consuming mistress.

In fact, Morgan's clothes are a set in Bloodborne. The bird chick, I forgot her name.

But yeah. I wanted to pin down some characters, Aversa and Gangrel to boot, with a flashback. You may notice that Gangrel seemed a little under the weather. That will come into play later.

Until Next Time!


	10. Chapter 10

The forest was large and lush. Every turn brought countless trees, bushes, and plant-life of all kinds in sight. A chill was heavy in the air, piercing right into the bones. No matter how hard one would clutch their coats to themselves, it would cut through it like a hot knife through butter. Snow at least had enough grace not to start falling, and sentencing any unlucky wanderer to certain death.

"Damn," Morgan muttered as he wrapped himself, full regalia of his strange bird-like outfit, with a blanket that looked more like a section of an old burlap sac. His fire was long since dead, mere embers mocking him with illusions of warmth. His sword clacked against the ground whenever he shook from the freezing air. He reached out for his small sac, untying the tight rope that prevented his supplies from falling. Only a small chunk of old cheese and a piece of jerky that he couldn't tell how long was in there remained. He needed to find someway to get food.

"_Maybe I can get a job in the next town for a little bit,_" he thought to himself, laying against the ground and resting his eyes. "_At least through the winter._"

Morgan had trouble remembering a lot of his life, but he was having even more trouble recalling how long he was wandering. The thickening stubble on his face itched his face, and more people were referring to him as 'old man' than he'd like. He hoped that it was just his voice. He really did.

"_Gods... what if I'm too late?_"

* * *

The village was small and quaint, by every definition of the word. Seven medium-sized houses wrapped around a circular path that had only one path going through it, crossing the north and south sides of the 'town'. The villagers all went about their days gathering wood, smithing tools, or bringing back the harvest. The only other notable aspect of the village was the shockingly large inn a few feet down the south road, easily within walking distance. The building was large and well maintained for such a tiny settlement, but its business remained consistently well off.

"_Maybe that place will work?_" Morgan thought as he looked at the content villagers from a nearby hill. He couldn't deny his body anymore. He was falling apart. Physical exhaustion and malnutrition were daily struggles that he could not ignore any longer. He'd get himself killed if he kept up the way he lived.

The dirt road he walked on felt like sand under his boots. The weight of his self grew heavier with every step, knowing that it was close to salvation. His head was cloudier every second. He knew that the moment would come. He reached his breaking point.

The fall was quick and painless. In no time at all, he was face first in the dirt as a group of villagers surrounded him, trying to get his attention before unconsciousness took hold.

* * *

"_Hello?" a young voice asked, consumed in darkness._

_There was nothing around him. Only pure, all encompassing black. Every sound was warped and alien. He couldn't remember a thing, only that the shifting dark around him was sickening, wrong. It felt like he was trapped in oil, getting into his nostrils and mouth. Every lick of the sludge on his flesh made him want to vomit._

"_Wait..._" _he thought. He just heard a voice._

"_Hello!?" he called out desperately, his limbs locked in place by the gelatinous evil. "Please, I can hear you!"_

_His voice felt locked in just as much as his limbs. The thick sea flooding his throat, choking the life from him. His lungs felt full to burst, drowning in that unspeakable horror of a substance. His head felt like a hammer smashed into it, his skull shifting with every motion of the sea. His brain melted into it. Every thought became harder to make._

"_You need to keep your mouth closed," the young voice finally answered back. It sounded as though it knew what it was talking about, so Morgan followed the advice and closed his mouth. It eased the headache a small amount, but he was too late by then. "We'll talk tomorrow night then. You won't be able to communicate now."_

"_W-Wait!" he called out, letting more oil into his mouth. The choking came back, pulling him down into the dark waters as he clutched his throat. He felt his face go cold as he was deprived of air. His arms looked in vain for anything he could grip onto, and slowed down as the last bit of energy he had was expended. _

_He was left in that dark ocean, sinking further into its depths._

* * *

Morgan shot up with a scream, his body coated in sweat. His chest nearly burst as he gasped for air. A violent pounding in his chest told him that he was at least still alive, which he was thankful for. A chill went up his spine, his armor off and flesh exposed. Morgan wrapped his arms around himself as he inspected the small room he rested in. It had a window that allowed for the sun to bath him in its light, warming him up instantly. He heard heavy footsteps from beneath him, telling him he was on the second floor of... where ever he was.

"Where am I?" he asked aloud, scanning the room with his eyes. A few hung paintings of small forests and rivers covered the wall opposite him, intersecting a large wardrobe and a dresser beside it. He looked around and saw that the wood used for the room was particularly exquisite. It all shined like it was brand new mahogany. His head snapped around as he remembered one important detail.

"_Where the hell are my clothes?_"

Getting to his feet was harder than he wanted, his bones creaking and muscles protesting with every movement. His legs felt like pure gelatine as he clutched an end table next to the bed he laid on. He shambled his way to the door, grabbing hold of the knob and pulling it for dear life.

"_Locked._"

The footsteps beneath him grew louder. Morgan tried to find a hiding spot, his eyes drifting towards the dresser, the cabinet, under the bed, even out the window. However, his legs betrayed him, sending him to the floor with a painful crash.

"Hello?" he heard a voice call out to him, lighter than he expected. A knock came from the door as Morgan fought to get back on his feet. "Are you okay, mister?"

His muscles felt destroyed, twisting wrong with every attempt to move. It was like he was controlling someone else's limbs while they fought back. His breathing became wild and hard to manage, strangling him of oxygen. He almost felt himself black out again before the door slid open, revealing a young woman holding a bowl of soup.

"By the Gods!" she cried as she placed the soup on the table next to the bed. As soon as that was done, her hands flew to Morgan, lifting him up and sitting him up on the mattress. Morgan saw the dark red of her hair, almost maroon. It was pulled into a wild ponytail, almost like a bushel of hair. Her face was young and pretty, not a blemish to be seen. Her eyes glowed like jewels as they scowled at Morgan, who felt insecure about his ravaged body, littered with scars.

"I have no idea what you were thinking," her voice was sweet, yet commanding and confident, "trying to get out of bed when you've been out a week."

"A-A week!?" Morgan nearly shouted, his throat like sandpaper. He clutched his windpipe as a coughing fit took hold of him. That same chill hit him once again.

The woman handed him a handkerchief to cough into, which he accepted gladly. Once he was done, the woman took a spoonful of the enticing smelling soup and hovered it in front of Morgan.

"What are you—?" Morgan tried to ask.

"You haven't eaten or drank anything for a while," she explained, keeping the spoon in front of him. "We had to put you in a tub of water just to hydrate you in time. Not only that, but you've been out for awhile, so you gotta be hungry, right?"

Morgan's stomach betrayed him with an audible growl. His face went red as the pretty woman giggled sweetly. The spoonful of soup stayed near his mouth, awaiting approval. Morgan gave up any resistance and opened his maw, allowing the stranger to feed him. His muscles refused to respond to any signal his brain sent. Now that he finally rested, his body could not become active once more. Another spoon of soup warmed his chest as the boiled broth brought new vigor to his system.

"Surprised to see you so willing," the woman said, giving Morgan another dose of the meal. "Most guys are too prideful to admit they need a lady to feed them when they're sick."

Morgan gave a dry chuckle, still exhausted by it all.

"Not much for talking, are you?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow. The silence between them lasted for what seemed like centuries. Neither knew of a way to continue a dialogue that they had not even begun. "Oh, we patched up that weird outfit of yours."

"Do you have it?" Morgan asked suddenly, his head snapping to the woman. His head went light at the sudden movement, his vision blurring into nothing but muddled shapes and colors. A hand shot to his temple, massaging the dull ache that ensued.

"Uncle Roy is putting the final touches on the repairs now," she explained, placing the soup bowl on the end table next to the bed. She placed a hand on Morgan's back as he suffered through another coughing fit, that one sounding painful and gargled. Morgan roughly shook off the woman's hand. Pushing through the pain alone.

"I need to get moving," Morgan growled out as he tried to get to his feet, stumbling over and coughing all the while. His head swam in an ocean that he could not escape from, his vision shifting and changing every few moments.

"You're not in any condition to get off the bed, mister," the woman scolded, pushing Morgan back onto the mattress. His bones felt like glass, and his body burned though he felt frozen. The softness of the mattress enticed Morgan. He needed to rest for awhile... at least until his fever went down. "You'll stay here until you can last more than two days outside. Then you can leave whenever you want."

"Th...Thank you..." Morgan croaked out, all energy leaving him. His eyes felt heavy, muscles like lead. Just a few hours. Mother could wait a few more hours.

The last thing he could hear before drifting off into unconsciousness was a panicked man's voice coming from outside the window.

"THE NECROPHAGES ARE HERE!"

* * *

_A/N_

Yes, this is the Dork.

Yes, this is a new chapter.

No, you are not dreaming.

So this one is basically setting up Morgan's whole role in the story, as a lone wanderer type by the time events begin. And yes, this is a cliffhanger. So the next few won't be as Morgan-centric as the last two. So we may actually get to see Robin do something cute again.

And to all those wondering what the hell a necrophage is, I started Witcher 3 and realized that there are a lot of mythical creatures that can be used. Fire Emblem never establishes that certain ones didn't exist, so free game. But basically, a necrophage is a human that died and mutated into a monstrous, animal-like creature that devours human flesh. They are attracted by corpses, so that village may be...

A-Anyway! Hope this chapter didn't suck, I kinda rushed it out hoping to appease some of the poor people waiting.

Until Next Time!


	11. Chapter 11

_Flames. All that could be seen, felt, heard, tasted. Only the flames. The bright yellow waves of heat wafted in the open air as free as fields of wheat. The ground shook as buildings collapsed, devoured by the fire. Every ounce of air was consumed to further the flames, even the air in one's lungs would be stolen. The Hellish claws of the fire scratched at the skin of any one unlucky enough to still be in the inferno, before mercilessly clawing deep into them._

_The smell of rotting, burning meat flooded the air. Pungent and sour, the tiny seconds of air the fire did not steal were toxic on their own, forcing one to empty their stomach onto the ground. Corpses littered the streets, all burning, burnt, or about to be burnt. The latter were all decomposed, with rats feasting on what they can before the heat chased them away. Some bodies were already skeletons by the time the oil was poured on them and set ablaze._

"_Please," a young voice begged, "please don't do this!"_

_It was a young man, barely twenty. His clothes were tattered and dirty. What wasn't dirt covering him was soot from the ashes of his former fellow villagers. His eyes were wide and white, unable to keep himself together as the large, armored guards threw him into a pile full of corpses. The oil was splashed and ignited._

"_Everything is as you have ordered, sire," one guard announced, dropping to a knee as a black figure scanned the remnants of the village. The figure was silent as it looked upon the village. Nothing close to life remained, only fire and ash. The strange being towered over the already tall guards, sending them into a submissive state._

"_**Good**," its harsh, powerful voice growled out. The figure looked to the sky as the black smoke rose high into the sky. It pinpointed onto a specific dot of light, a lone star in the dark sky. "**We will find the child soon.**"_

"_How are you so sure, your grace?" another guard asked as he approached, every distinguishable feature hidden behind layers of thick, metal armor._

"_**Because she's looking at us right now**," the cloaked figure explained, looking at the star still. "**Aren't you, Robin?**"_

* * *

"My lord," the elderly butler announced as he entered into the lavish bedchamber. Expensive items of all kinds covered masterful tables, desks, and dressers. The bed was large and pristine looking. Sheets of the highest quality were laid out, a dark blue with ivory white borders. The pillows were large and soft, like an oversized marshmallow. On said bed was an exhausted Chrom, his face buried into a pillow. The young royal groaned as the butler called for him, the obstruction to sleep twiddling with his mustache as he waited for the muffled swears to stop. "My lord, I understand that it is late, but I am afraid that Lady Robin has a request."

More muffled speech from Chrom, the bed creaking as his body readjusted, trying to sink further into the silk sheets.

"It seems that she's had a nightmare, and wishes you to sleep with her," the butler continued unabated, raising an eyebrow as a certain two-syllable word came through the moans and groans. "I am sorry, can you repeat that?"

"Lissa..." Chrom hissed out, his hand waving the butler out. "Get Lissa to do it... Robin likes her more..."

"I am afraid that Lady Lissa is... _indisposed_ at the moment," the butler dropped his professional air for half a moment before returning to his neutral state. "The Lady twisted her ankle during one of her usual walks, and is currently healing in her own bedroom. She is not to move whatsoever until the swelling has gone down."

"Ugh..." Chrom gargled out as he rose from his bed. It was the first night back after they arrived from the field, and he wanted to enjoy it after the thrashing Emm gave him early that day...

* * *

_Chrom couldn't believe what he was doing. As Robin hid behind his leg like a terrified puppy, Emmeryn, his calm and peaceful sister, was scolding him like he never heard before._

"_I cannot believe how irresponsible you are, you fool of a prince!" Emmeryn venomously attacked, her words cutting her brother down more so than any weapon swung at him. "How dare you just allow such a child to wander about unattended! You were lucky Kellam found her when he did, or else who knows what could have happened!"_

"_Emm, I'm sorry—" Chrom tried to explain before being further drowned by his sister._

"_Do not 'Emm' me!" Emmeryn said as she poked hard at his chest, inflicting more pain than Chrom thought would happen. "That girl is your responsibility now! If you continue to fail like this, the state of our house could be at risk! Let alone the country itself!"_

"_Wait, what are you talking abou-?"_

"_Do not take me for a fool, Chrom!" Emmeryn slapped his words back at him. "I know about Robin! I know what your plan is, and you cannot expect me to sit back and watch as you fail to raise her properly!"_

"_Raise, what-?"_

"_Yes, you insolent idiot!" Emmeryn continued her out-of-character rant as Robin continued to hide, afraid of the once nice lady's shouts and insults. "The girl is your charge now. You cannot just wander off and party with your friends anymore! You have a responsibility to care and nurture for Robin, and that includes acting like an adult now."_

"_I think we've gotten off topic-"_

"_You are dismissed!" Emmeryn silenced Chrom once again, turning her back to him. Chrom readied his next words carefully, trying to clarify the strange story his sister invented. "If you open your mouth once more, you shall be on Frederick's training list for the next three months!"_

_That shut his mouth quick._

* * *

"Alright, alright..." Chrom groaned as he got to his feet. He wore no shirt, his chest exposed while long-johns covered his legs and gave a semblance of class and decency. The butler nodded to Chrom before exiting the room, and standing in the hall as he waited for his master to follow. "I'm coming!" Chrom hissed as he made his way into the hallway with the butler.

The gentle rumble of thunder reminded Chrom of the storm outside, along with the pattering of rain against the windows next to them. The hallway was illuminated by a mixture of candlelight, and the gentle natural light of the occasional lightning bolt.

"So..." Chrom started awkwardly, still half-asleep, "you said she had a nightmare?"

"Yes, sire," the butler said tersely, not even turning his head back to Chrom. The man's heavy footsteps echoed loudly in the halls, giving Chrom a migraine at that.

"She say what it was about?" Chrom asked, yawning into his hand. He rubbed his eyes to get himself to stay awake long enough to get to Robin's room.

"I am afraid not, my Lord," the butler admitted, still as cold as ice to his follower. "She awoke sometime in the night, crying and asking for you to sleep in bed with her."

"Me, directly?" Chrom asked. He rubbed the back of his neck as the thought brought a weight to his shoulders.

"Yes, sire," the butler answered. Only the heavy footsteps after that.

"Why me? Why not Lissa?" Chrom continued to question. The chill in the hall made Chrom regret not wearing a shirt to bed. "I mean, she could have asked to go to Lissa's room, right?"

"In my opinion, sire," the butler said, for once turning his head to Chrom, "I do believe she is what is known as a 'daddy's girl'."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Chrom asked, perplexed. His head spun trying to think of what that meant. Mostly images of certain books he tried to hide from his sisters came to mind, but he knew that they were not related.

"I think you will figure it out soon enough," the butler said. "She talked most of the staff ears' off about you, already."

"Why, though?" Chrom asked once again. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea of Robin preferring him. She mainly went to Lissa for everything on the road. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time the two of them actually _spoke _to each other.

"Could be hero worship," the butler admitted, stopping just outside of a wide, wooden door across the hall from Chrom's room. Which made the blue-haired prince wonder why he needed to be led to begin with... "Could be she wants the approval of a father, and you happened to be the one to come across her. Or it could just be that you remind her of someone. I do not claim to know much about Robin, or children for that matter. All I can say is that she does see you as family."

The room the butler led him too was the guest children's bedchamber. It was for any visiting party with small children that needed to stay overnight. The door was surprisingly heavy for its intended user, needing a push that Chrom put more muscle into than he wanted to. The room was noticeably smaller than Chrom's only being around ten feet wide all around. The windows across from the door showed a great view of the countryside, if the storm was not blocking the view at the time. Stuffed animals covered the dressers, tables, and even the bed. A large pile of toy horses, sheep, and even dragons acting like a pillow for the shaking Robin.

Robin was no longer in her purple robe, which was neatly folded and placed inside the chest at the end of the bed for the next morning. Instead, she was loaned the old pajamas that Lissa wore when she was Robin's age. Seeing the white haired girl in a bright yellow nightgown, covered with pink rabbits, weirded Chrom to no end. He was unsure of what to do, as her whimpers were audible from where Chrom stood.

"Uh, hey?" Chrom asked unintentionally. A flash of lightning lit the room for half a second, making him jump by accident. He muttered to himself about it as he entered the room, seeing the butler was long gone. "You had a bad dream?"

Robin only buried her face in the stuffed animals, acting as a shield from the outside world. She continued shaking as Chrom sat on the bed, waiting for a response.

"Listen, uh..." Chrom began, scratching his cheek as he lost his tongue. He needed to get the uncomfortable bits out of the way before... well they were all uncomfortable now that he thought about it. "You didn't uh... you know..."

Robin tilted her head out from the animals, one eye visible and wet with tears. What could be seen of her lip was quivering as Chrom fell over himself trying to console her.

"The bed's not... _wet_,right?" Chrom asked, his mind flogging himself over such an idiotic question. The small shake of Robin's head relaxed Chrom. His eyes drifted around the room. The exhaustion he felt earlier was back with a vengeance, dragging him down onto the mattress. "You said you had a nightmare, you wanna talk about it?"

Robin answered with another shake of her head.

"Okay," Chrom agreed, now laid across the mattress with his head and legs splayed over the sides. "You want to just get some sleep?"

Robin nodded that time.

"Good, uh..." Chrom lost his tongue all over again. His thoughts went a mile a minute as he tried to... he didn't even know by that point. "Sleep is... important! And little girls like you should get as much as you-"

Chrom was interrupted by a stuffed turtle being thrown at his face, hitting him dead on.

"Okay, I get it," Chrom said, repositioning his body and laying his head down onto the mattress. The materials felt almost as good as his own bed. "No lectures. Let's just get some sleep now, okay?"

"Will you keep the monsters away?" Robin asked suddenly, her face fully revealed from her pile of toys. Her eyes were swollen and red, more upset by the dream than the butler let on.

"They won't show up," Chrom answered, his eyes sliding closed. His body felt like melting butter, and it was getting harder to piece thoughts together.

"But what if they do?" Robin asked, her face stuffed into her favorite toy, Kitty.

"Then I'll slice them to pieces," Chrom promised, officially too exhausted to keep going by that point.

"You promise?" Robin asked one more time, getting little more than a grunt from Chrom. "I think that means 'yes'," Robin told her toy cat. A small smile grew on her face as she herself drifted off to sleep.

The gentle rumble of thunder lulled the two into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

_A/N_

We have finally gotten back to the regular timeline, hurray!

Sorry that the Emmeryn thing was glossed over, if you think it is. I thought that a time jump was needed to get to the important bit, and a few hours and a single conversation didn't feel like too much of a sacrifice.

But you may have noticed how dark that intro was compared to the rest of the chapter. Get used to it. The tonal shifts are a part of the story, basically meaning that the darker characters get darker chapters; or at least parts of one.

And to all who think that they know who the stranger is, and what the dream means, you're probably totally on the money, but I like to think you're all wrong and...

Holy shit it just dawned on me... I'm not even a 50th of the way through this thing...

Oh geez... oh man... so much writing...

And to all those wondering why it's been so long, there's two reasons.

a: total creative drainage. I had no inspiration whatsoever to keep writing, and I wasn't about to force it too bad if I didn't feel that it would work.

b: MY COMPUTER HAD A VIRUS! Fucking DNS Unlocker made my browsing experience an Ad filled Hell hole! I had to fiddle around with shit I had no idea what meant just to fix it! Thank God I had a step by step guide, or else I might've killed my laptop!

Any way... a few Robin-centric bits are next. Maybe a few others, but no spoilers.

Until Next Time!


	12. Chapter 12

The remnants of the village shocked Marth's eyes. His mask near fell from his face as the horrors in front of him came closer. His steps turned slow and steady as he scanned the destruction before him. Houses were torn and burned; the streets red and filled with the bodies of mutilated villagers; the inn had a destroyed barricade that sent a chill down Marth's spine. He gripped his sword as he saw a handful of villagers, only five in total, came from the inn. All were wounded and sobbing as they picked up the pieces from their shattered homestead.

"By the Gods..." Marth said aloud, unable to comprehend the destruction. Fires blazed in the fields far from where he stood. The heat wafted over to him, making the heavy clothing he wore uncomfortable and full of sweat.

"S-Someone else is here!" one of the villagers shouted, picking up the broken, jagged handle to a farm tool and holding it at Math. The rest did the same, brandishing axes, scythes, or whatever else they could find from the ground. All shook as they circled around Marth, who held his hands up in confusion.

"Wait!" he nearly screamed, his voice far too high than what he wanted. "What are you people doing? I'm not going to hurt anyone!"

"We've heard that one before," a large man said as he exited the shattered inn. He had a bandage wrapped tightly around his bald head, stained brown with old blood. "Right before those things attacked."

The villagers wore dark expressions as they got ever closer to Marth. He could only wonder just what happened to make those people so hostile to him.

"What things are you talking about?" Marth asked, hoping to solidify his claims of lack of knowledge. The large man carried a massive warhammer as he entered the fray.

"The Necrophages," the man answered, his eyes wide and white. Just looking at the man made Marth feel a heavy weight on his shoulders. "Those... _monsters_ came in... they killed everyone... _ate _everyone... We're all that's left."

"I am truly sorry that you've been forced to suffer like you have," Marth said in consolation, eying the mob down. "But I don't see why attacking me would solve anything. Necrophages aren't capable of trickery, so it's not like I am one in disguise."

"We know that, you damned fool!" a young red headed woman from the crowd shouted. She had claw marks all across her body and face. It shocked Marth that she was even alive, let alone on her feet. "Yet when we..." tears poured from her face, strangling her words.

"Listen, I understand what you have went through, I do," Marth began, "but I have no quarrel with you! I am trying to find someone, and I was hoping to find someone that has seen him."

The mob went dead silent, only the crackling fire from the fields could be heard. All dropped their weapons, their faces dark and hopeless.

"So..." Marth said, trying to keep the conversation going, "I need to know if you've seen him. He has blue hair like me, and is a bit taller than me. He should be around my age-"

"We've seen him," the red headed woman said, her eyes puffy and red from her sobbing.

"Do you know where he is!?" Marth snapped in panic, his once professional stance broken by emotion. "Did you see if he is alright?"

"He was in bad shape when we took him in," the red head continued. "He was dehydrated and starved. It wasn't easy just scrapping the dried blood off of him." Her throat bulged slightly, face turning a slight green. "He smelled as though he hadn't bathed in months. It was hard just to be in the building with him."

"What happened to him when the Necrophages attacked?" Marth scanned his surroundings. The villagers were visibly calmer, stances relaxed and weapons lowered.

"What do you want with him anyway?" the scarred beauty asked, her own eyes fixated on the lavishly dressed stranger.

"I'm not too sure of that myself," Marth admitted, feeling his face go red from beneath the mask. "I guess I will try to help him as best I can."

The villagers all went silent. Faces were as dark as the blackened ash covering what was their town. Rain sprinkled onto them at first, quickly becoming a torrential downfall as Marth watched them with a ball of ice in his stomach.

"Whoever you think that guy is," the red head said, choking back tears, "there ain't nothing left in him but evil."

"What are you saying?" Marth demanded. How could they say that!? He needed to stop wasting his time in that village and get moving. He needed to find-

"Trust me when I say this," the large, bandaged man said as he dropped his hammer, "that monster only leaves bodies behind him. Let him go."

"Please," Marth begged as shock exploded in his system, "just tell me which direction he went, and I shall leave immediately." His mind raced a mile a minute. There was no way that...

"He went North," the red head answered, shaking her head as she limped back in the direction of the inn. "He said something about going to Ferox, but that's all I know."

"Thank you very muc-" Marth stumbled out as much gratitude as he could before being cutoff.

"Just leave and let me bury my family in peace, okay?" the woman said, not even bothering to turn her head before she disappeared into the rundown building.

Marth had no words as he made good on his promise, walking through the crowd and heading north, leaving the beaten and broken people to pick up the pieces of their old lives. There was nothing he could do. He had no help to give, and they clearly wanted none to begin with. Nothing he could do but chase down rumors, and hope to stumble into his friends at some point.

* * *

The campfire burned through the darkness like a flame to paper. Its comforting glow and warm light provided Marth with enough rest to finally take off her mask without fear of discovery. She undid the binds to her hair, letting it flow down to her shoulders. Her face lacked not even the smallest of blemish, a face befitting a true royal of Ylisse. Memories of friends and family would always act as a crutch during the empty loneliness that traveling would bring. Endless fields of trees, and not even a blink of sunlight to illuminate the pitch black. Even the grass felt malevolent as her boots crunched through the blades as she readjusted how she sat.

The ruins of the village came to her mind again. The injured villagers and shattered homes. The fires and the blood sent chills down her back as the words flooded her ears once more. The pure, defeated hatred that those villagers held scared Marth. What happened there to cause such horrors? There was no way she entered some nightmare that she could not wake from, was there?

What of her friends? Were they even there with her? Did she make a mistake somewhere down the line? How long was she even traveling? A year by then, definitely. She needed to make sure that time changed in her favor, but that would require being able to actually _find _everyone.

"Lucy..." a high-pitched voice whined across from her. 'Marth' looked up to see a young woman in shining armor, blue hair in two puffed pig-tails. "Can you put the fire out? I can't sleep with the light on..."

"If you wish to freeze in the night, by all means come and extinguish it," 'Marth' snapped back at the relaxing girl. A whine came from the other before light snores took over instead. She wished to apologize to her sister, but she knew that it wasn't necessary. The girl could bounce back from anything.

A shock sent her mind reeling. Something was pulling her back to the dark thoughts that she acquired earlier that day. Why didn't she go with her sister to the neighboring village? They knew nothing, but they also _knew nothing_.

"_Oh, Father... What have you done...?_"

* * *

"DON'T YOU 'EMM' ME, CHROM!" an enraged Emmeryn, once again in one of her occasional spells of rage now that they were out of public eye, screamed at her brother.

"Come on," Chrom began his argument, his morning clothes wrinkled and clearly in the state that said 'not a morning person', "how much gold would it take to just host a small little ball, invite a few people to have some food, and-"

"Get utterly trashed on wine and try to sleep with young Noble chicks?" Lissa cut in, entering the private bedroom of Emmeryn from the open door that no doubt broad-casted the Exalt's rant throughout the castle.

"What do you mean 'try'?" Chrom asked in confusion as he rested on a lounge sofa, his back stiff and cricked due to having to sleep with Robin the night prior.

The Exalt's bedroom felt as modeled and false as the persona she wears to the outside world. Paintings from famous artists littered the walls, as much as the hallways if not more, and expensive dishes were left on the table, almost casually. The mighty mahogany structure carried the porcelain wares with ease as Emm calmly poured herself a cup of hot tea from the small kettle that sat on the edge of the table. The steam wafted around the small cup as Emm picked it up, blew some of the steam away, took a sip, and tossed the cup and contents at Chrom's head.

"Hey!" Chrom said as he ducked his head at just the right moment to have it miss, the wall now covered with bits of glass and hot tea. "That could have burned me, you know!"

"How can you possibly request a ball when so much is happening around us!?" Emmeryn barked, closing the distance to her brother. "The last thing we need are more rumors, and children that look like you, running rampant here!"

"That was one time," Chrom defended, waving a hand, "and you have to think it's weird that the tavern wench that accused me ran off the second she got her money."

"Wasn't that because Frederick threatened to have the place shut down?" Lissa asked, getting a nasty glare from Chrom, and turning her nose to the sky.

"Only if she couldn't prove it was me!" Chrom said with a smile that quickly dissipated when Emmeryn stared him down.

"Brother," Emmeryn began, her voice empty and cold, "your constant... _activities_ with women lately have become too dangerous to ignore. At first we turned a blind eye when a Valmesian princess woke up in your bed-"

"It was two," Chrom clarified.

"Twins?" Lissa asked, astonished.

"No, cousins," Chrom answered.

"But!" Emmeryn raised her voice, getting their attention once again. "You have become reckless and stupid with your relations," Emmeryn turned her back to Chrom, tone stern and commanding. "As of today, you are to no longer frequent any brothels, galas, balls, or social gatherings where your appetite might be allowed to go free."

"Wait," Chrom asked, perplexed once more, "you're _grounding _me?"

"If you are caught with another woman, you are to marry her on the spot," Emmeryn said, her deadly eyes sending chills down Chrom's back.

"How does that make any sense?" Chrom dared to say, talking back to his surprisingly threatening older sister. "So if I pick up any old prostitute, and get caught, then she's my wife then?"

"Chrom," Emmeryn deadpanned, her face as motionless as a stone, "I know you are picky with your choices. How that doesn't impact the amount, on the other hand, is beyond me."

"So what am I supposed to do if I can't enjoy the company of the fairer sex?" Chrom asked, his voice slightly spiteful. He knew Emm was bluffing, but he couldn't let her know that this early. Then she might take it seriously.

"You could bond with Robin," Lissa offered, stepping aside to allow the tiny tactician into view. In her small hands was a piece of paper and a few pencils. She still wore her pajamas from the night before, her purple robe draped over her shoulders. Kitty hung from the device Frederick made, Robin slghtly nibbling on the ear of the cat. "She's been waiting to see if you'd draw with her for the past hour or so."

"Oh," Chrom said, an epiphany hitting his mind, "that's right..."

* * *

_A/N_

Alright, so I finally have everything planned out for this thing. Yay for me.

So I bet the first question you have is: "Why is Chrom a playboy?"

Well it's because having Chrom stay a generic hero man's for a majority of the time feels like not much actual development happens to him. I wanted him to start off as a man _no one _would want as a father figure, and have him evolve into a caretaker. Also because I was watching Archer and the idea popped in my head. You may notice a quote or two in here from that, albeit butchered so I can claim I made it up when I talk to girls.

Second, kind of a wacky chase thing going on with Lucina (spoilers if you actually didn't know that until now), Cynthia (she'll mean something later, people who never play the games and just rely on bad FF to get your lore), and Morgan. It's a thing I am actually interested in to flesh out.

Anyway, I'm super tired, so I apologize if you think this one is an incoherent mess of a thing. I didn't sleep too well last night. I'm editing a video me and a buddy of mine did. It's just two and a half hours of us talking shit about animes we watched as we watch other animes. I feel so accomplished with my life.

Until Next Time!


	13. Chapter 13

_His hands clutched onto his silver sword as the flame from his old, rotten torch withered out. All that he could do was stare, wide-eyed, paralyzed, and broken at the monstrosity towering before him. Every inch of his body was glued in place as the beast came ever nearer, filling Morgan's body with a fear he never experienced before._

_The creature was beyond imagination. Long, thick, slick tentacles waved through the air, connected to mutated, corrupted flesh. The body alone dwarfed Morgan, a mere speck of dust to the titan before him. Its head split in two to reveal an abyss of long, razor-sharp teeth inside a mouth of black, sickly flesh. The skin was covered in thick, hard scales that oozed a viscous slime that killed all around it, the stench of rotten fish thick within it. Long, spider-like legs carried the planet-sized beast ever closer to Morgan, an incomprehensible howl tearing the poor man's mind to pieces._

_The land itself changed as the creature pushed itself closer, turning the once scorched earth into a desert of flesh and bone. The ground itself turned pink and slimy as the corruption spread, consuming all. Trees exploded into bone and blood, branches snapping and sharpening as the evil devoured it. Even the sky itself turned alien. The once dark night sky turned a dark, jade green, the long, jagged tear within it a thick black. It was as if the sky just vanished, allowing the beast to slip into his world through the now open space._

_Morgan could only look around him as what was left of humanity was overtaken by the abomination's influence. The ones that were caught by the evil mutated within moments, their bodies shifting and morphing into inhuman monstrosities. Groans of agony and feral savagery filled the sky as the beasts devoured the untransformed. Blood rained from the sky as the remnants of Earth were pulled into the sky by the winged demons that followed their God through the crack, tearing apart their victims in the sky and eating them alive._

_A low giggle slipped through his lips, his eyes unable to shut out the scene before him. The screams pierced his brain as they grew quiet. Only the roars of the unnatural, indescribable beasts remained, along with Morgan's laughter. He fell to his knees as the mutated surrounded him, their bulbous, molted looks twisting and turning in Morgan's mind. His laughs continued, slowly sinking into a violent sob as the mob drew closer, their blood soaked claws and tentacles ready to rip him into bits._

"_Oh," Morgan wailed, tears flowing from his eyes, "Gods! Oh Gods!"_

_That was when he knew. Grima was merely an insect compared to the true enemy... no... the **true **Gods._

_The creatures lunged for him._

* * *

"So what're you drawing?" Chrom asked lazily, sitting at the old, rickety picnic table in the middle of the courtyard. Leaves blew around him and Robin, bright reds and oranges now that autumn was coming. Chrom held his head up with an arm, still not woken up from his exhausted state. The small girl sitting across from him, however, was the exact opposite. She happily hummed a tune as she shaded her drawing in, a small smile on her face. She placed her toy cat, Kitty, on the table next to her paper, facing Chrom, obstructing his view. She claimed it was so he wouldn't find out what it was before it was done.

"I'm not done yet," Robin said, still shading in the paper. She kicked her tiny legs as she sat, almost in beat to her humming though it was off by a few seconds.

Chrom rolled his eyes before scanning the courtyard around them. Not a soul was in sight, not even in the library, at least what could be seen through the large windows that looked out into the courtyard, or the bathing room, which was just a large pool of warm water that was connected to an underground source. Memories of Chrom and a few female companions having a less than elegant time in that pool came flooding back to him as the words of Emmeryn came to his mind.

"_'If you are caught with another woman, you are to marry her on the spot!'_"

He release a large sigh, slightly scaring Robin, who jolted in her seat. Those large, innocent eyes of hers looked at him with childish confusion as she grabbed hold of her toy.

"I-I'm done," Robin said, her face slightly red. She buried her face in Kitty, a slight whimper leaving her lips.

"Oh?" Chrom asked, his daydreaming broken by the small person's hesitant announcement. He slid the paper over to him, looking at the drawing done by the little girl.

It was... remarkably well done...

It was a portrait of Lissa, clearly by memory, expertly accented with the dark grey of the pencil used. The shading and all around quality of the drawing was something Chrom could not possibly begin to comprehend. If he had not known better, he would have been sure that it was done by a professional with enough experience to make up for over twenty men. The picture looked as though it was about to start moving, maybe even speak. Every curve of Lissa's face, every ruffle of her dress, every strand of her pig-tailed hair was done to complete perfection. Chrom could only shoot his eyes to Robin, who was hugging Kitty tight to her chest.

"Robin," Chrom begin, his mind blown, "where did you learn to do this?"

"I don't know," she said quietly, her eyes glued to the table. She knew he would be mad. She shouldn't have done that.

"This..." Chrom lost his words, still in utter disbelief. "We were only here for an hour!"

"I'm sorry..." Robin said, her eyes filling with tears. Her toy's head became wet as the lacrim grew too heavy for her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. Small sniffles caused Chrom's spine to go cold.

"Wait, no!" Chrom panicked, throwing his hands in the air, "I-I'm not saying you're bad or anything!" He zipped his head in every direction, trying to spot any nosy on-lookers that wanted to watch their prince be an ass.

His fears became reality when he saw a familiar face come tumbling her way towards them. Then fall. Then get up and march over again. Then fall again.

"My lord!" Sumia announced, getting to her feet once again, shaking the leaves from her hair. She managed to make it the rest of the way without getting hurt, seeing the strange sight for herself. Chrom, the man with enough charisma to charm his way through half of the world's collective panties, was white in the face and panicked as Robin, the small bundle of genius, sobbed into her cat toy. "Uh... what exactly-?"

"Please don't ask..." Chrom begged, his eyes telling Sumia all she needed to know. A warm, maternal smile graced her face as she tapped Robin on the shoulder, getting her attention.

"Would you like to go see the pegasi with me?" Sumia asked, noticing a slight shake from Robin. "They're the horses with the wings. I promised you that we'd see them together when we got back."

A small squeak from Robin made Sumia giggle, picking Robin up and holding her in her arms. A slight glare from the savior made Chrom's face go dark, knowing his reputation was now utterly dead to her.

"We'll go see the pegasi," Sumia said, making her way out of the courtyard, Robin clutched against her, "and then I'll make you a nice pie for later, okay?"

With that, the two were gone, leaving Chrom by himself. He could feel his limbs shake as the tension took over his nerves. His head felt like it was about to explode, a bubble crushing his brain from within. It took him several moments, and heavy gasps for air, to get his breathing under control.

"FUCK!" Chrom shouted to the sky, unable to hold it in any longer. What the Hell was he thinking!? He can't take care of a kid! "FUCKING FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK!"

The air around him went silent as he finished screaming, back to gasping for air. He rose from the picnic table, going to the nearest exit he saw, having no idea where to go.

"_This day can't possibly get any worse..._"

* * *

Morgan rose from his cot, screaming at the top of his lungs. The dream still fresh in his mind. His throat burned as he went on, voice turning into broken glass, despite not being able to stop. His face went purple as he went on.

Heavy footsteps followed the noise, banging on the thick wooden door, a large, nasty voice coming from it.

"Will yew shu' y'ur bleedin' trap!?" the thick accented man said from behind the door. "S'um o' us 're tryin' ta sleep!"

Morgan was up in a flash, his sword through the door, silencing the man in an instant. A thick stream of red flowed from the gap, spilling onto his hands, staining the flesh with that all too familiar stench.

"_I'm not insane..._" he repeated in his mind, his skull throbbing with a pain he could not begin to describe.

"I'M NOT INSANE!" he shouted out, stabbing the door over and over with his sword. Blood sprayed across the small, empty room (save for the molded cot on which he slept on), and covering Morgan with the dark red fluid.

Morgan fell to the ground, his eyes welled up with tears. He knew what the dream meant.

He was too late.

The Gods were coming. The _real _Gods.

* * *

_A/N_

So... This got fucking dark real quick.

I noticed that it started off H.P. Lovecraft, went to cutesy fantasy thing, then to weird quarter life crisis thing for Chrom, then back to Lovecraft for Morgan.

Speaking of him... yeah, don't expect him to be that lovable goof ball like in the game. He has seen some shit, and he _remembers _it.

So we have everyone focusing on... well nothing right this second, but apparently beings beyond human understanding are coming.

...

They're fucked.

Until Next Time!


	14. Chapter 14

Chrom could only listen as the words of his sister flowed through the main chamber, filling it with her calming voice. He tried his best to hold back his chuckles at the contrast between Emmeryns. Just the other day, she was screaming bloody murder at him. Now she acted as though the Gods themselves guided her words. He wanted to laugh, but the horrified looks of the peasants sent a chill through his body. Even his tongue felt as though it was frozen.

"Please, your grace," one battered peasant begged. His face was covered with old rags used as bandages, stained brown with long dried blood. His clothes were covered with so much dirt that it would be harder to find a spot that wasn't covered with caked on mud. His mouth opened to reveal a set of broken teeth, still bleeding and inflamed. "You've got to send aid! The Plegians raid us border villages nearly every day. We barely have enough time to gather seeds before they put the torches to our homes!"

Chrom was shocked at how well-spoken he was. His surprise was then replaced with frustration very quickly.

"I am sorry," Emmeryn said, her voice as calm and cool as a babbling brook, "but we cannot send any aid without risk of war from the Plegians. I will negotiate a truce, and stop these attacks as best I can."

He knew it wouldn't work. Gangrel was a lunatic, and when he wanted war he got it. Force was the only thing that would work, but Emmeryn was desperate for any other alternative.

"I knew you were a bleedin' coward!" an old man from the crowd of common-folk shouted. His long, snow-white hair was accented with a thick, dirty beard that held patches of a light gray. He stumbled his way through the mass of terrified, angry people, holding himself up as best he could on his cane. "An' while you talk wif' the Mad King, he's burnin' more villages! At leas' y'ur father knew when to fight!"

The crowd grew louder as the tensions rose. Shouts of encouragement were aimed towards the old man, who removed part of the tattered robe to show a prosthetic leg where his right one should be. It was faded copper, and the leather straps were close to falling apart. Nevertheless, it looked sturdy and well made.

"I fough' Plegis for ten years wif' the Old King!" he declared, earning more shouts and cheers from the mob. "I'd fight 'em all over again if the Exalt would stop bein' a craven!"

More demands for Plegian blood echoed in the wide chamber, nearly breaking the windows open with their intensity.

"Our families are starving!"

"My wife was taken by Plegian soldiers!"

"They burned my farm! I've no way to make a living!"

"ENOUGH!" Chrom demanded, his face red. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger, he decided that he didn't give a damn. "Look at you all!" he began, stepping to the front of the mob. "You all ask for blood, for retribution or justice or some other excuse to send people to die. But I remember when I was a boy when you all called _my father_, the Old King, a murderous madman. You all called for his death so the war would end! Now that it has, and now that you've gotten _fat _and _lazy_, the threat's come back. And you beg for the same thing you clawed in desperation to _end_."

"Easy for the prince to say when he gets to drink and whore around all day!" a young man from the crowd screamed, his face a cherry. "You've not had to fight for scraps because the Plegians burned your wheat!"

"We have a plan!" Chrom fired back, his entire being going white. He looked around, seeing confused faces on everyone but him, though his lack of one was not by choice. "We took an important political person prisoner to negotiate with the Mad King."

"Who is it!?" the elderly agitator demanded, clacking his wooden leg against the floor. He tried to get the momentum of the crowd back, but it was clear that they were too enticed by the reasoning.

"I cannot say at this time," Chrom said, feeling himself sweat, yet freeze, all at once, "just know that she is incredibly-"

"It's a woman!?" the old peasant interrupted, catching Chrom's use of the pronoun.

"N-No," Chrom said, losing his ad-libbing abilities in face of examination. "I-I merely used the noun as a way to-"

"Did you steal Gangrel's wife!?" the old man insisted, the crowd getting tense once more. "Is this why he harasses us!?"

"I-I can assure you that we didn't kidnap the prisoner," Chrom felt himself shrink down as his lie fell apart around him. "W-We merely acquired them to solve the raiding issue."

"You stole Gangrel's wife! Now he wants our blood!"

"The Whoring Prince stole the Mad King's Whore!"

"N-Now that one was just rude!" Chrom tried to sound commanding, before the tensions reached a breaking point.

The crowd shouted and threw all manner of things at the royal, who tried in vain to dodge the more disgusting of substances. He looked to see guards closing around the crowd, which was still locked in a violent bloodrage.

"_Oh Gods!_" Chrom shouted in his head as the guards tried desperately to subdue the more violent of peasants, even punching one directly in the mouth, spraying blood and teeth across the hall.

"Chrom!"

The man in question turned his head to Emmeryn, who stared at a familiar little girl, tiredly making her way through the hall, passing the mob without so much as a scratch, before approaching Chrom, who could only stare in puzzlement.

"W..." she mumbled out, clearly having just woken up from a nap. Her hair was disheveled, her purple robe was wrinkled and dragging loosely behind her. Her eyes were not even half open, remaining shut as she tugged on Chrom's shirt for his attention. "Wa..."

"YOU ARE SERIOUSLY ASKING FOR WATER NOW!?" he ended up saying much louder than he wanted to. The crowd went dead silent as they looked to see a small child, pulling on the sleeve of Prince Chrom.

They all saw the Plegian robe she wore.

"Uh..." Chrom also lost his ability to speak as he met their eyes, still feeling the small tugs. "Th-This, ladies and gentlemen! This is the prisoner!" Chrom said with pseudo-confidence as he held Robin up for the crowd to see. The girl in question quietly fell asleep back in Chrom's hands as he placed the girl against the floor, who proceeded to then wrap herself in her cloak. "King Gangrel's prized daughter, Robin! There is no way that he would try to weasel out of negotiations knowing his child could be harmed at anytime!"

"_They're never going to buy it..._"

* * *

"_BY THE GODS, THEY BOUGHT IT!_" Chrom repeated in his head for the trillionth time, still wondering if he was dreaming.

The crowd was long gone, only maids and cleaners left in their place to clean where the former party stood. It was still an incredible sight to behold. As soon as Chrom finished his speech, the peasants left without so much as a witty retort. Not even the old cripple questioned the story, actually being the first one to leave.

"How long are you just gonna stand there?" Lissa asked Chrom, holding Robin in her arms and cradling her. Her face was twisted in pain as Robin took to nibbling on one of Lissa's pigtails.

"I guess until they come back to put my head on a pike..." Chrom said, his eyes still wide with surprise. He slapped himself more than once to confirm that he was not dreaming, his face red with handprints.

"Hey," Lissa said, approaching Chrom, "I think you missed a few."

"What-? _GAH!_"

Lissa had smacked Chrom down to the literal floor, the latter rubbing his face as he got back onto his feet.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, YOU IDIOT!?" Lissa screamed, surprisingly enough not waking Robin in the process.

"You saw how that crowd was acting!" Chrom tried to defend himself, his hindsight eating away at him worse than his sister's direct criticism. "How would you have done it?"

"Well first, I'd not throw a little girl under the carriage!" Lissa said, smacking Chrom once more.

"Will you stop hitting me!?" Chrom demanded, catching Lissa's hand when she swung for another hit. "And what are you talking about?"

"Now a rumor'll spread that we have _Gangrel's daughter_, you moron!" Lissa spat venomously at Chrom. "The Plegians that didn't already hop onto the 'Let's burn Ylisse!' party will be practically begging for war when this gets out!"

"But Gangrel knows that he doesn't have a daughter," Chrom tried to reason, his face burning from the slaps. His sister was inhumanly strong when it came to those smacks of hers. "_His people _know. He's never declared an heir."

"Doesn't matter!" Lissa exploded once more, feeling Robin shift in her arms. "He can just make up some story about how you killed her mother and took her before he even got to see her. POLITICS ONE-OH-ONE: HOW TO LIE!"

"Um..."

"Well, Lissa," Chrom snarled at his sister, his own frustration burning his brain, "if you had any better solution, let's hear it out!"

"Excuse me..."

"Don't pin this on me!" Lissa said defensively, turning herself and Robin away from Chrom. "You got yourself into this mess! Fix it yourself!"

"Please, I really need to talk to-"

"'Fix it yoursel-'!? You can't be serious!" Chrom clenched his fists. "This isn't 'breaking Emm's favorite tea glass'. You said it yourself, this is _war _we're staring at! You can't just expect me to single-handedly solve an international crisis by myself, can you!?"

"Please, I if I could just have a moment!-"

"OH MY GODS, WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" Chrom and Lissa shouted at the only remaining peasant, a horribly disfigured man. What was once two arms were replaced with rusted, old hooks. His face was completely covered in bandages, only a few open spots that exposed scarred flesh. His mouth was partially torn open, revealing broken teeth and a tongue that looked more like a bit of chopped up meat in his mouth.

"Please..." the man said, disturbingly clear. His voice did not sound as though it came from his mouth. It was as though the words went straight into the brain. He was not a very tall man, not even coming up to Chrom's shoulders. His clothes were in worse conditions than the others, looking scorched and shredded by who knows what. "My village needs help..."

"Sir," Chrom said, his voice calm and understanding, "I get that the Plegians are attacking, but we can't spare any soldiers-"

"Plegians?" the disfigured man said, his eyes, despite being bloodshot and dry, expressed deep confusion. "It weren't any Plegians that did this to me."

"Then..." Chrom felt a sense of danger creep up his body, his eyes shooting to Lissa, who was visibly worried. "What beast did this to you?"

"It weren't no beast either," the man said, not even a lisp infecting the speech. "It was a man, true enough it was."

"What man was this?" Lissa asked, surprising even herself. She gently rocked Robin as she tried to listen to her little snores for comfort.

"They call him the Bird of Darkness..."

* * *

_A/N_

So yeah, Morgan's done some messed up shit, and the Shepherds are hearing about it.

...

I gotta bad feeling about all this, you guys...

Also, if anyone would like to make a cover image for the story, that'd be appreciated. I finally decided to give in and give it one. If you make one, I'll give you a shout out, regardless of whether or not I use it.

So yeah, whore yourselves out for that Dork-senpai noticing.

Until Next Time!


	15. Chapter 15

Cold. That was all he could feel. His skin was naked, exposing scarred flesh to the bitter wind. He had no shoes, forced to crush the freshly fallen snow without so much as a sock. The trousers he wore were enough to keep his legs warm, at least when it was added to the sprinting. The chains that locked his hands together bit into his flesh, dripping dark red onto a pure white. His breaths were quick and small. He couldn't think about the agonizing burn that his legs held. Nor the fact that he had not eaten in days.

He could only think about the men chasing him.

"We're gonna skin you alive, you sonofabitch!" he heard a distant voice shout.

"_Damn it! How could I get so careless!?_"

Trees went on for miles as Morgan stumbled his way through the thick, snow-covered forest. Pits of ice and snow threatened to ground him with every step. Not that he could afford to miss a single one. The voices were getting closer. What were once echoes from miles away were now full sentences.

"We got you, bird brain!"

"I'll tie you to the stake myself!"

Morgan ran as fast as he could. The muscles in his legs fought him with every movement, but he could not stop. He knew that if he stopped for so much as a moment, he would die.

A heavy strike sent Morgan to the ground, launching him back-first into the snow. He didn't even have time to get his bearings before a heavy kick to his ribs tore the air from his lungs. Another kick sent him sprawling, desperate to get back up. The next one struck him directly in the head, blurring his vision and making his ears ring.

"Ha-Ha!" the assailant laughed nervously, sounding like a boy not even in his twenties. "I-I got him! Hey, he's over her-!"

The boy was cut silent as Morgan tackled him to the ground, wrapping his arms around his neck and choking the boy with the chain. His face went to a dark purple as Morgan pulled back harder. The young one clawed at Morgan's face in desperation, who shook the hands off as his attacker lost his strength. Morgan jerked his arms, snapping the kid's neck. He dropped the corpse into the snow, a limp, lifeless body.

"Rob?" Morgan heard an older man shout. "Rob!? Where are you, son!?"

"Don't worry!" Morgan screamed out, breathing hard and heavy. "You'll see him soon!"

"You bastard!" the man screamed out, pure sorrow and rage in his voice. "I'll rip limb from bloody limb!"

"Ah, shut up and send me more pigs to kill!" Morgan screamed out, seeing figures hidden in the darkness of the forest. An endless stream of silhouettes filled the treeline, not a single space left unoccupied. He heard laughter coming from the boy on the ground, his neck snapping backwards to look Morgan in the eye.

"You're fucked!" the boy snickered out, a malevolent tone in his voice. Blood seeped out from his mouth, spilling from his lips. It stained the messy brown hair that Morgan never saw he had. Dark green eyes were a pale white as they stared up at the unarmed, unarmored man.

"Shut up," Morgan hissed out, not taking his eyes off of the trees, "you're dead." He could not deny though...

There were... quite a few.

"_Shit..._"

* * *

"The 'Bird of Darkness'...?" Chrom asked, an eyebrow raised and a sneer on his face. He rubbed his temple as the disfigured man spoke.

"That's right, milord," the cripple said, his voice clear and powerful. "I swear it on me mother's life. He came into town just a few weeks past. By the next mornin', we were nothin' but cinders and cripples, if you're lucky."

"Wait," Lissa said, still cradling Robin in her arms, "why does that sound familiar?"

"It's that story Father told us," Chrom explained, a bemused look on his face. "A man dressed as a bird as black as the darkest night; a being that brought only death and misfortune. He was supposed to be the Boogeyman, in a way."

"'Supposed' nothin'!" the disfigured man lurched forward, bandages falling from his face to reveal a half-skinned skull. Muscle and tendon exposed to the open air, some black with rot and yellow with pus. "The bloke is _real_! He killed me mates! Me wife!"

"Listen," Chrom began, his tone less than kind, "we have a _war_ on the horizon. I get that you lost people to Plegia, I do. But making up some story about a twenty-something-year-old legend won't convince us to help you. We just _can't_."

The disfigured man spat on Chrom's shoe, much to his disgust, and made his way for the door. Slow hobbles were all that he could do, one leg missing and the other one dragging across the ground like a piece of old rope.

"The bastard's comin'!" he shouted to the siblings, the only ones left in the hall. "And when he does, fancy titles won't save you! Nothin' will!"

Chrom and Lissa were left alone, both silent. Neither could speak. They didn't want to admit it, but they felt a chill. They never wanted to hear about that... _thing_ again.

"S-So..." Lissa stammered out, shaking so bad that Robin woke up in her arms. The child lightly rubbed her eyes, and gave a small yawn. "Yo-You don't think he was telling the truth, right?"

"He couldn't have been," Chrom asserted, snapping his eyes to Lissa's. "We both know that it's just a fairy tale made to scare kids."

"Pr-Pretty recent for a fairy tale, don't you think?" Lissa said, placing Robin on the ground as she woke up. The tactician looked to the royal siblings with confusion.

"What's wrong?" Robin asked innocently, not hearing the conversation with the cripple. She wrapped her arms around her toy once again, clutching it for comfort. They looked scared... and that scared her.

"Nothing," Chrom said, his eyes glued to the floor. "Just got reminded of a story that scared me."

"I don't like scary stories..." Robin admitted, her face going red.

"Hey, how about we take a bath?" Lissa offered spontaneously. Chrom could tell that she was desperate to change the subject. He could only give her a small nod in consolation as Robin wore a small smile.

"Okay!" Robin agreed excitedly. She took Lissa's hand as she was led out of the chamber, leaving Chrom by himself.

He stood in absolute silence. Only memories filled his brain, more so a single specific one...

* * *

"_Father?" Chrom asked, entering his father's bedchamber. He was young, around ten, and he wanted to see why the King hadn't left his bedroom in several days. Lissa was crying about not getting picked up, and Emmeryn refused to say anything. The room was surprisingly simple for a king. A single dresser, a large bed with pelts for sheets, and a table across the bed for paperwork. Not even a painting was added._

_But what shocked Chrom the most was the way his father looked sitting on the bed. The king, a large, powerful man that was more of a giant bear than a human being, was sitting on the edge of the bed, weeping like a child. The sorrowed moaning scared Chrom, who wanted to forget he was ever there, but he felt paralyzed to the spot._

_After a few moments, the crying stopped._

"_Chrom?" the king asked, his voice strong and commanding. "Chrom? Is that you?"_

"_Y-Yes, father!" Chrom answered, feeling himself go white. "I-I'm sorry for intruding!" Chrom turned to leave._

"_Don't," the kind said, not looking at his son. "Please. Don't leave me to stir in these thoughts."_

"_Wh-What thoughts?" Chrom asked fearfully. He never saw the king act that way before. His father was usually the life of a party, loud and cheerful. Always willing to crack a joke, or drink some poor fool under the table._

"_I..." the king began, unable to find his words, "I guess I remembered what a king should be doing."_

_Chrom stood in silence as his father took a deep breath before shakily continuing._

"_I-I was on patrol with my men, just a routine thing," the king said, clutching his head in his hands. "We saw smoke coming from one of the villages. At first we thought it was bandits, just a simple raid. But when we got-"_

_The king stopped as more tears filled his eyes. He had to force himself forward, every step._

"_When we got there, they were all dead. No... not even dead. They were just... not even human anymore. We didn't find corpses, we found _pieces_. Bones, meat, organs, and what was left of their clothes. It was..."_

_The king lost his way, just staring out the small window as the rain pattered down on it. The pitch-black night sky painted the image out for Chrom, his imagination going wild._

"_It was the Bird..."_

_Chrom once again was robbed for words._

"_You-uh..." the king said, turning his head to Chrom. "You fancy any girls yet?"_

"_What!? No!" Chrom said, his face a beet with embarrassment. His father just chuckled._

"_I'm sure little Sumia will be sad," the king said, trying to stay jolly. After a few moments of heavy, crushing silence, the giant spoke once more. "But, son, please remember this for when I'm gone."_

"_O-Okay..." Chrom finally managed to say, his knees shaking._

"_There is true evil in this world," the king said, his tone empty and broken. "And it is up to good men to fight it."_

"_And the Bird is one of them?" Chrom asked, awaiting his father's response._

"_That Bird..." the king growled out, his fists clenching. "That Bird will be a fairy tale by the time I'm dead! I'll take his head myself."_

"_A fairy tale...?" Chrom asked, unable to understand his father's promise._

"_Just..." the king said, his tone calmer. "Just remember what you have before the world reminds you about how easily you can lose it..."_

"_Okay," Chrom promised, nodding his head. He still had no idea what his father was saying, but he knew it'd be better to just say he did._

"_And don't worry about the Bird," the king said, "he's just a legend used to scare little boys and girls." The king turned around to Chrom, staring directly into his eyes. "Right?"_

"_U-Um, what-?"_

"_The Bird is just a legend, _right_?" the king's tone made it clear to keep the whole conversation a secret. Chrom could only agree._

"_R-Right... a legend..."_

* * *

"A legend..." Chrom said, staring out of the window in his bedroom, watching townsfolk go about their lives without a care. He had to get the whole debacle out of his head. Maybe he'd head out to Vivian's and...

"_Oh, right..._"

Of course he had to get grounded when he needed to clear his head the most. Now he was stuck with bad memories floating around in his head without any way to clear them.

"_Maybe a bath would help._"

* * *

_A/N_

So now you have the truth. Looks like Morgan is pretty infamous...

I actually included a reference to one of my favorite war movies, Fury, in the story. Try to find it, then go watch that movie. It's deliciously depressing.

And yes, that ending line is a joke about the Robin and Chrom support in the game... please don't call Chris Hansen on me...


	16. Chapter 16

"So what are we gonna do when we find Dad?" Cynthia asked her sister as the twin-tailed woman sat upon her steed. It was an aging war pegasus that suffered one too many injuries in the wings to be useful for battle. Ruffled feathers covered brutal scars, and its once proud white coat was stained with mud and gray ash. Marth sat atop a young mare that she had purchased, the saddle simple and less elegant than her sibling's gem encrusted montrosity.

"I have no idea," Marth admitted, a sigh leaving her lips. The trail before them was long and open, cutting through a large field; a popular route for traders and merchants of all kinds. The sky was filled with thick, gray clouds that blotted out any sun. It had the decency to not rain, though the chill of the winter weather made it hard to think on the bright side. "I guess we will discover what happened to everyone else. They are still wandering around without us."

"Do you think that they managed to make it to the portal too?" Cynthia asked, her brow furrowed. She saw Marth tense her back, her horse stopping dead in its tracks. A pregnant pause infected the air around them, leaving Cynthia with a bad taste in her mouth. "I-I'm just saying that-"

"No," Marth said suddenly, cutting her sister's words short. "I understand what you meant. But I know that they made it through. All of them."

"Right..." Cynthia said, her eyes drifting to the ground. "Look, about Morgan-"

"I thought I said that we don't need to talk about that," Marth said, dropping her commanding tone as she snipped at her sister. She felt her hands go cold as the name ran through her thoughts. Her eyes went wet, stinging them as the mask she wore did not allow them to flow down her face. "We just focus on the task at hand, alright?"

"That's the thing though," Cynthia said, not daring to look her sister in the face. "All of these rumors and hearsay. It just got me thinking." Cynthia scratched her aged pegasus behind the ear as she explained herself. "You really don't think Father is doing all this, do you?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous," Marth said, waving a hand. "However, he is bound to follow up on these rumors eventually. And we still need to find out where exactly in the time-line we are."

"But what about Robin?" Cynthia asked. "You said that she was-"

"It was a trick of the eyes," Marth said sternly, her grip tightening on the reigns of her steed. "Nothing more, nothing less. A trick brought on by darkness and adrenaline."

"Right..."

The two sisters continued on down the trail, unsure of where to go next.

* * *

"So, Chrom," Emmeryn began, sitting across from her brother in a simple wooden chair as he relaxed in the royal bath. A large pool of water lined with regal tiles and flowers of all kinds. Nothing could be compared to it without the word 'angelic' being used at least twice. The mere atmosphere made one drop their guard and seek to soak in its waters. "You do understand what you are to do?"

"Yes, I understand," Chrom said as he attempted to relax. An unsure look from his sister made him sigh, bringing a hand out of the water and balled into a fist. "One: go to Ferox and ask for assistance." He raised his pointer finger. "Two: have that assistance ready for war if worst comes to worst." He raised his middle finger. "Three: as you negotiate with Gangrel conditions to avoid conflict, me and the Shepherds devise strategies to use in case the talks go south." He raised his ring finger. "That it?"

"Quite." Emmeryn said proudly as she raised from her seat, turning towards the large oak door that opened to the courtyard of the castle. "Also, I must take Robin with me during these talks, to ensure that I can debunk any rumors of her parentage."

"Wait, what?" Chrom asked, his body going cold in the warm waters.

"Well, it appears the rumor of Ylisse stealing the Mad King's child spread like wildfire amongst the Plegian Courts," Emmeryn said, bitterness in her voice. "So now I must make Robin appear as though she is part of the royal family."

"Uh, so what does that mean exactly?" Chrom asked, perplexed by his sister's words. He shifted in the tub as a tight feeling built in his gut. He knew what that meant. It meant-

"It means that you are officially a parent," Emmeryn said.

He was going to get bad news...

A long silence strangled the two for words.

"I know what is about to happen," Emmeryn said, readying two earplugs. "Okay, you may start."

* * *

Lissa draped the thick, fluffy blanket over Robin, who had trouble keeping her eyes open. A small yawn erupted from the child as Lissa handed Robin her stuffed cat, having it all but torn from her grip. The two were in the guest bedroom that was modified into being 'Robin's' room, The pile of stuffed animals that all but buried the actual pillows proved enough for the girl as she got comfortable.

"Did you like the bath?" Lissa asked, seeing Robin drift off. A small smile was on her face as Robin nodded slowly. "I didn't really have to ask, since you all but cried to stay in." A small giggle came from Lissa as Robin's face turned red, burying itself in the animals. "Don't worry, I was the same way."

It was only a few seconds later that Robin fell asleep, her small eyes shut. Her chest slowly rose and lowered as each breath was made. Lissa found herself staring at Robin, unable to abandon the small girl in the room.

"Good night," Lissa said, turning towards the door and exiting the room.

A maid was dusting the paintings as Lissa walked past. The servant was an elderly woman, far into her years if her wrinkles and gray hair said anything. Lissa felt the woman's eyes dig into her back as she walked past, turning her head to see the maid staring back.

"Um..." Lissa said, noticing the old woman was not averting her gaze. "Excuse me?" she asked politely.

"I noticed that you've taken a likin' to the little one," the servant said, a thick accent bleeding into her speech. She hobbled her way to Lissa, who walked to meet her halfway. "Ah, don't do that. Jus' an ol' woman tryin' to fight 'er legs."

"It's really nothing," Lissa said, looking the old woman over with worried eyes.

"Bu' the li'le one," the elder said, confusing the princess. "You like her?"

"Oh!" Lissa said, catching her meaning. "You mean Robin?" The maid nodded. "Yeah, I like her. She's way too cute." Lissa said with a bright smile.

"That's nice," the maid said, dusting the frame they stood before, a picture of the Old King, Lissa's father. "Too many kids these days want t' jus' run from responsibilities. Good you three own up t' them."

"Well," Lissa said unsurely, rubbing her neck with a hand, "I can't deny it's scary. I'm always afraid of screwing something up," she admitted, a nervous giggle following it.

"At least you jus' got the one," the maid said boisterously. "I've had more kids than I can count, which ain't much, I admit. But I also had a husband to share the load."

"I'm certainly lacking in that department," Lissa said, not wanting to feel the weight of all those courtship speeches her parents drilled into her to come back. "I'll probably not have that spot filled for a long time."

"What?" the maid asked. "Haven't any suitors?"

"No," Lissa said, all fun and joy sucked from her body. "It's just that I've heard the speech a billion times. 'Get married!' 'Have kids!' 'Find a man that will make you happy!' It's just annoying after a while."

"Hmph," the old maid grunted, her face turning sour. "Sounds to me like you're a princess."

"Well," Lissa said, an eyebrow raised, "I am."

"Don't get smart, Missy," the maid said, "I mean that since you never had to fight for scraps, you can complain about what people tell you."

"What does that even mean?" Lissa asked.

"It means this, you don't want your fun ruined by the real world. I get that, we're all children once. But the real world ain't a fun place. People get hurt, they die, they suffer, they lose. It's life," the maid said, her face darkening. "I lost my husband and three of my children in one day. I only ever had them for company. I was always shy when I lived in my village, not many friends. Da turned to drink when Ma died, which was early, sickness you see. Same got him later. Thomas, my husband, and I grew up together since childhood. We were married in all but ceremony."

Lissa found herself listening to the servant's story, absorbed into it.

"Then one day," the old woman lost her voice, it breaking apart in her throat. "We saved a young man."

"He wore the silliest costume... Like he was a crow or something..."

Lissa felt a familiar chill in her back.

"_No..._"

Not a sound was heard as Lissa stared at her maid. Another person talking about the Bird? But it was just a legend. She knew it was.

It had to have been.

* * *

"_Fa-Father!" Lissa screamed into the darkness of her bedroom. She was soaked in sweat, clutching a small toy bear for comfort. She whimpered and sobbed into her toy as she waited for her father to arrive. The tears wouldn't stop despite all of her attempts to stop it. Chrom would always call her a crybaby when she couldn't stop._

_Loud, thunderous footsteps on the other side of her door brought her some relief. She recognized those steps instantly. _

"_Lissa?" the deep and powerful voice of the king asked from the other side. "What is it, sweetheart?"_

"_I-I had a bad dream..." she admitted, feeling her face go red. She was nearly seven. She needed to stop being such a baby!_

"_Oh..." the room went silent for a few moment before the door opened, the king illuminated by a small candle he held. He placed the candle on the nightstand next to her bed before sitting on the mattress with her. "Do you want to tell me what it was about?"_

"_N-No..." Lissa said, staring into the head of her bear. She never felt more embarrassed than she did then. "I-It was just some stupid story Chrom told me."_

"_What story was it?" her father asked, his rich voice peeling away at her defenses. "Don't worry, neither of you are in trouble. He's thirteen, so he's just trying to pick on his little sister. Teenagers always do that. Just tell me what he told you."_

_Lissa was silent, unable to speak._

"_Lissa,"the king said, "it wasn't anything bad was it? Like a secret he asked you not to tell anyone?"_

"_He..." Lissa trailed off, fear conquering her for the moment. "He said that you told him about it."_

"_Oh," the king said, a gentle smile on his face. "I guess he got too excited and told you an old war story of mine. That boy needs to remember a few things about common sense."_

"_No," Lissa said, shocking the king. "It was a really scary story. One about a man with feathers."_

_The king's smile disappeared. He clutched his daughter's shoulder, looking her straight in the eye._

"_Lissa, I need you to tell me everything that he told you."_

* * *

Chrom stared at Emmeryn in total shock, unable to function without a restart. Emmeryn merely stared back at her brother, waiting for the moment when her ear plugs would come in handy. The moment never came as Chrom slipped below the water line, not moving a muscle as water overtook him.

"Oh come on, Chrom," Emmeryn waved a hand. "It's not _that _bad. You were already dealing with rumors of parentage."

Chrom, in a moment that paralyzed Emmeryn herself, rose from the water and retrieved his towel, wiping his face as he got to his feet. Nothing about him promised the plugs their time to shine, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"So, when do we head out?" Chrom asked calmly, wrapping the towel around his waist.

"Uh..." Emmeryn scanned her brother as best she could, trying to find a chip in his armor. "As soon as you are ready, preferably."

"Excellent," Chrom said with a smile, "I'll get the others ready to go." He made his way to the door, whistling a tune to himself.

"Chrom," Emmeryn said in desperation, "You _are _okay with being officially declared Robin's father, are you not? Not about to scream, or shout, or faint? Just fine with it?"

"Oh absolutely not," Chrom admitted, "I'm just so in shock that I completely went full circle. Give it a little bit, and then we'll see."

"A-Alright then," Emmeryn said, now terrified.

"Now!" Chrom said as he clapped his hands together. "Let's get everyone together and discuss the plan."

"Ri-Right."

* * *

Frederick walked through the streets with a stride. He knew that there was something Chrom was not telling him regarding the rumors circulating as of late. Which were far too many to count. The first place he'd need to go was the one place he never thought he would. An old, run down building that looked as inviting as a dragon's cave. Wood split and molded, but the shelves stocked with books of all kinds. It was a small building, not even enough to hold ten people. Yet the kindly old man manning the counter gave a warm smile to Frederick as he entered, spotting the person he searched for.

"Yes, Sumia," Frederick said as he approached the young woman, who hummed a merry tune to herself. "I would like a recommendation regarding a book about folklore, if you would indulge me."

"Oh, Frederick!" Sumia said with a smile as she placed a book on one of the shelves of the local bookstore she frequented. "It's surprising to see you here. You said something about folklore? Why would you need something about that?"

"Call it a personal interest in the subject," Frederick said, scanning the shelves with her. "Do you have any you'd prefer?"

"I'm not sure about folklore books..." Sumia admitted, her face going red. "I'm more of a-"

"Trashy-page-turner-romance that you can finish in a day?" Frederick finished, deadpanned.

"I would have gone with _budget love story _but that works too, I guess," Sumia said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Still, anything would help," Frederick said, "especially if they were published recently."

"Oh," Sumia pulled a rather thick book of the shelves. "You'd want this then. '_Earl's Guide to Ylissian Tales and Legends'. _It was published just one month ago."

"I trust that he is in depth?" Frederick asked, taking the book and scanning the pages.

"Of course," Sumia said, her eyes brightening. "I'm not that interested in the subject, but even I was sucked into it more than once! He adds so much detail and style that it's hard to put down!"

"But does he have specific tales?" Frederick asked. "The one I am looking for is not one fondly regarded."

"More than likely," Sumia said. "You cannot doubt Earl's level of research. If it was a story, it's somewhere in that book. But now I have to ask, what story are you searching for?"

"The-uh..." Frederick lost his words, turning his head to check for eavesdroppers. "The Bird of Darkness."

Sumia giggled warmly, making Frederick feel like a fool.

"That old thing?" she asked as she put a hand to her mouth to quiet her laughs. "I remember my sisters always telling me that he was going to snatch me up in the night if I kept stealing their make up. Honestly, I did it just to see if he would. But why are you looking into that old boogeyman?"

Frederick scanned the store once more.

"Call it a gut feeling for now," Frederick said. "But something has been nagging at me for a while since we've gotten back. I can't explain just yet, as I barely know anything. But I just get this feeling that it'll be important."

"So your gut feelings are like my petal predictions?" Sumia asked cheerfully, unable to register Frederick's darkened expression.

"Hopefully not. Because if they are, we must prepare for a storm."

* * *

_A/N_

Yeah, I did a thing. I'm super tired right now...

...

Fuck it, no comments for now. I'm going to bed.

Until Next ti-zzzzZZzz


	17. Chapter 17

_Some Time in the Future_

_The trees cracked as the cold air blew through the forest, pulling leaves and pine from the mighty towers of wood. The breeze made one's flesh blue, and their blood ice in their veins. No amount of clothing could protect one from the harshness of Ylissean winter. The dark clouds in the sky blocked what little light the sun could send, freezing the ground over._

_But none of that mattered to Lucina._

_She stared at the bleeding man on the ground, hands up in the air as a sickening laugh penetrated her ears. His voice alone made her body want to writhe. A bitter, disgusting taste graced her tongue, making her throat feel short. The smell of the man nearly pushed her over the edge, like rotten blood and decayed flesh. Her sword shook in her hand, unable to stand ready and still. Her eyes were wet with tears, stinging her faces as they slid down._

"_Well..." the man began casually as he got to his feet, not even clutching the bleeding wound on his right forearm, "that's one way to start a reunion."_

"_Silence!" Lucina ordered, her body tensing back into combat stance. Her legs bent, sword at the ready. Her tears no longer dropped, her face twisted into a scowl. The frozen grass broke like glass as Lucina shifted._

_She charged forward._

* * *

"My lord!" Frederick called, his voice raised.

Chrom's body shot upwards, nearly falling onto the ground as his hand slipped. What was once luxurious silk and satin became rough bunches of hay on the ground. Well heated rooms became cold, dreary tents in the middle of muddy fields. Any hope of female company became getting yelled at by Lissa for leaving Robin unattended for so much as a bathroom break.

"Ngh..."

"Speak of the devil," Chrom whispered to himself, craning his neck to see the small bundle of tactician raise from the ground, giving a tiny yawn. She wrapped herself in her purple robe before she wattled over to Chrom, tugging on the sleeve of his dark blue sleeping shirt. It was thin material, but extremely durable. His only regret was forgetting the pants that went with them, which were no doubt still in his dresser at the castle.

"Chrom," Robin said slowly, still exhausted. Her hair was frazzled and a mess, a far change from her usual straight hair look. "Chrom?"

"Yeah?" Chrom asked, getting up from the ground. A cold breeze graced his legs, icy electricity going up his back.

"Can we have pancakes?" Robin asked innocently, a small sparkle in her eye.

"Uh..." Chrom looked away from the child as he thought of an answer, unable to even as he put on his armor and sword. "Ask Lissa, I guess. I think she has kitchen duty today."

"Okay," Robin said simply, nodding her head as she stood at the flap of the tent, staring at Frederick, who was still standing there.

"Is there something you need, Robin?" Frederick asked staring back at the girl, who nibbled on the ear of her cat toy.

"Um..." Robin looked down, her face going red. Her eyes were glued to her feet as a small hum came from her mouth.

"Alright then," Frederick said, turning to Chrom. "My lord, I must take my leave. Many chores to be done around the camp. I shall see you later tonight for the discussion with your sisters."

"Good. Thanks, Frederick," Chrom said, seeing his armored friend disappear from behind the flaps of his tent. He turned to Robin, who was still red and staring at her shoes. "So what were you going to ask him?"

A small squeak was all he got as an answer.

"Okay then..." Chrom huffed out, walking up to the child and offering her his hand. "So you ready?"

Another squeak.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Chrom said, grabbing Robin's hand. "Let's get a move on."

* * *

"So, Emm," Lissa said as she and her sister walked through the camp. Tents and soldiers went on for as long as the eye could see. Armor clanked and weapons shined brighter than the sun in the clear sun, making them wish they could find a device to wear that would blot out both. Some kind of glasses for the sun.

"Yes?" the elder sister asked, keeping her eyes forward as they walked.

"Do you actually think that negotiations will work?" Lissa asked her brow furrowed. "Gangrel's all but attacked us directly to get a war. I think we pretty much gave him a dagger and pointed it at our necks for him by this point."

"I know that, Lissa, I do," Emmeryn said, giving a tired sigh. "I just hope that at the very least his people can see that Ylisse is not as bloodthirsty as we once were. Maybe some path to peace can be found there, I do not know. But we can not just sit back and not try."

"But what will we do if he insists on taking Robin?" Lissa continued her questioning. "Even if your plan works, he might demand her as a hostage, or, worse yet, claim that you are lying. He'll want to see the mother, find a certificate, wonder how she got the robe, and who knows what else with him."

"I have a story already prepared, dear sister," Emmeryn said, a small, sly smile on her lips. "I shall explain everything when we have the time."

"Alright..." Lissa hesitantly agreed, her nerves not calmed in the slightest.

* * *

"Stahl?" Sully asked, the maroon-haired she-beast wandering around the camp in search of her friend. "Hey! Yo, Stahl!"

"_Damn... where'd he run off to?_"

Her horse gave a mighty rear as she gripped its reigns, pulling it back to the ground when it tried to lift its legs. She gave the creature a sneer, intimidating it back in line before continuing forward. She went into each tent, calling out the name of her sloth friend. With each time she called his name, her anger only grew. The other guys were looking at her like she was some kinda psycho. Granted she didn't care what they thought, but it was hard to argue that when you spent the last hour and a half calling out some guy's name like a desperate maiden.

A fresh, delicious scent caught her attention. She shot her eyes to the mess hall tent, one much larger than the small soldier structures that could hold three troops on a lucky day. In hindsight, she should've caught that sooner. Her boots threatened to get stuck in the thick paste of a mud that the rainfall left for them. Each step was difficult, but by no means impossible.

"_Yep. He's in there_."

Slurping and content sighs confirmed where the soon to be dead man was.

"_Won't stop stomping until I hear a nut pop this time._"

* * *

_A/N_

I finally did another chap-stor-

Thing, I did a thing.

Now we are finally back onto the plot! Yay...

But now _sub-_plots are in the making. Oh geez... oh man...

Until Next Time


	18. Chapter 18

Snow blanketed the ground around them. Large, pillowy sheets that piled on top of the ground. It wasn't too wet or powdery, the perfect balance between the two. The cold was brutal, on the other hand. Mere seconds without a coat left a man with the frost's bite. It sent shivers down Chrom's spine as he rode atop his horse. Robin clutched her robe against herself, sitting on the horse with Chrom. Small whimpers reached the man's ears, making him groan. His eyes drifted to the child, seeing a purple robe jitter in the wind.

"Chrom...?" Robin asked, her tiny voice freezing in the air with the rest of the land around them. A tiny hand placed itself on Chrom's wrist, his hands holding the reigns of the horse. A soft sneeze shook the robe suddenly.

"Let me guess," Chrom said, watching the snow around them. His eyes burned as the sun peeked its way through the clouds, reflecting off the white and blinding him. "You're cold?"

"U-Uh huh..." Robin confirmed, shaking once more.

"The Feroxi landscape is brutal," Chrom explained, his tone just as cold as the snow around them. He freed one hand to rub his eyes, which had dark circles beneath them. The weather wasn't helping much with his sleep schedule either. Most nights involved him shivering and clutching a lantern until his body ran out of energy and forced him to slumber. "Not much I can really do about that."

"Okay..." Robin said, her voice shaking. Chrom thought he saw ice crystals form on the rim of her coat, but he waved it off as a trick of the eyes.

"Hey, Chrom!" he heard Sumia call to him as her steed caught up with theirs. The convoy they rode with were just all exhausted and miserable as Chrom was. Complaints about cold related injuries and rest were a daily hassle. No site they considered was safe enough from the elements. They lost more men then they wanted the first time they tried to camp. Over twenty went to sleep only to not rise the next day. Despite the grim outlook, Sumia remained as cheery as ever. She wore that warm smile that she always had, at least whenever Chrom saw her.

She rode the pegasus they rescued what felt like an eternity ago. It was a pure white creature, blending into the snow with ease. Its wings were tightly clutched against its sides, both looking strong and healthy. Just one would have created a large enough shadow to cover three men. The beast rocked its head from side to side, braying to the sky any chance it had.

"Sorry," Sumia said, stroking its neck, "she's a bit restless. She's been cooped up for so long."

"It's fine," Chrom said, still watching the snow. He took occasional glances of Sumia, his eyes darting to her, then back to the path ahead of them. The supply cart they rode next to held a large cart of apples, one of which Chrom swiped and held in his hand. "She's probably going nuts because of these."

He tossed the apple to Sumia, who nearly fell off her steed trying to catch it. She ended up sideways, scrambling to straighten herself and not drop the fruit. Chrom chuckled as she got back to her saddle, face completely red. Sumia brought the apple to the pegasus' mouth, feeling the creature take it with her teeth and eat it. The loud crunches caused Robin to stir, who awoke from a nap she had just entered. Robin's face was uncovered from her hood, her nose a bright red Her head turned to Sumia and her pegasus, eyes and mouth agape in amazement.

"Wow...!" Robin squeaked, contemplating jumping off of Chrom's horse and riding the winged one Sumia had. Chrom wrapped an arm around Robin, as if sensing her plan.

"Yeah," Sumia said with that same motherly smile she always used with Robin, "she's all better now."

"She's so pretty!" Robin said, reaching her arms out to pet the pegasus. Chrom's arm kept her from making any progress. She inevitably lowered her arms, slumping down on Chrom's horse still, a small pout on her face.

"When we get to the capital," Sumia offered, scratching the neck of her steed, "you can pet her all you want."

"Really...!?" Robin exclaimed in pure glee. She looked up to Chrom with puppy dog eyes, wide and with tears building.

"Why are you looking at me...?" Chrom asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm fine with it." The look persisted. "That means that I don't care." Tears reached their point, one sliding down Robin's cheek for added effect. "Yes! You can pet the pegasus, for Gods' sakes!"

"Yay!" Robin cheered, her tiny arms wrapping around Chrom's midsection. He stared at Sumia, who only giggled into her hand.

"You clearly don't have any young relatives," she said, stretching her arm to tussle Robin's hair, who whined and set about fixing it. The child's tongue peeked from her lips, concentrated on getting a wild hair under control.

"None that I've met," Chrom said with a sly smile, catching the raised eyebrow Sumia had. "That was a joke."

"Was it?" she asked in honest curiosity. She kept her gaze focused on Chrom, catching the constant shifting he did in his saddle.

"A bad one, apparently," Chrom admitted, rubbing his neck his hand, freeing Robin from his grip for a few seconds before returning it around her. He felt his face go red. On the plus side, he was warm.

"For such a lady's man," Sumia said, her own smile turning sly and conniving, "you sure lack the charm."

"Wha-!?" Chrom yelped, hopping in his saddle. His horse screeched at the sudden sensation. It took all of Chrom's might to keep it from running off in fear. "How do you know-!?"

"Oh please," Sumia interrupted, "do you have any idea how many of my books are written by women who swear to Naga that they've spent a night with you?" Her smile melted down into a frown. "At first, one would think it's a desperate plea for attention, but then they bring up what your bedroom looks like and what you like to do with the grapefruit-"

"There is a child here!" Chrom barked, startling Robin and causing her to bury herself in her cloak. "And none of that is true! Also, I only used the grapefruit once. It got weird..."

"Right," Sumia said, her eyes locked onto Robin, still shaking in her bundle. "But it got me thinking. Why has your... _quota_ dropped as of late? I'm noticing that there have been no unfamiliar women leaving camp lately."

"Well," Chrom began, slapping himself as a tug on his eyelids nearly sent him to sleep, "Feroxi weather might have a thing to do with it."

"I mean even before that," Sumia clarified, shielding her eyes as the sun cut through the clouds. A bright flash made them all see white, and when their eyes cleared it wasn't much better due to the snow. "Before we even left Ylisstol, you were more irritable, and not a single noble complained of you in his daughter's bed chambers."

"Look," Chrom said, lifting his hand up, "it's something between me and Emm. Trust me, I'm just playing along for now, but I'm hoping to have everything back to normal soon."

"I was trying to say you made great strides in being a better person-"

"But trust me," Chrom said, ignoring Sumia entirely, "the minute I get the chance, I'm just going to lay with the first woman I see. The lack of sex has been figuratively _killing me_. Add that with the cold weather, and you get a man itching for something to kill..."

"You really are spoiled, aren't you?" Sumia asked sarcastically, earning a look as sharp as daggers from Chrom.

* * *

"You're gonna tell me everything you know..." the man said to the chained prisoner. The cell was filthy and dark. The air choked a man like poison. The stench of sweat, blood, waste, and rot was enough to make one delirious. "And you won't skimp on a single detail."

"Why?" the prisoner asked, his voice graveled and dark. His beaten face was covered with bruises and cuts. His blue hair was dirty and blooded. He spat saliva full of puss and blood. Fire consumed his body, sweat pouring from his body. A war drum exploded in his skull, crushing his brain. The irons used to hold him were rusted, but solid. Every twitch caused them to bite into his skin.

"Because if not," the man, an older mustached man wearing tattered peasant clothing, "you'll not leave this room alive."

"You'll kill me anyway," the prisoner said meeting the gaze of the old man. "There's too high of a price on my head. I tell you everything, then you send my heart to her excellence Emmeryn. Don't take me for a fool."

"You don't think we'll send you to her alive?" the wrinkled mess of an interrogator asked, smacking the prisoner to keep him awake. His hand was drenched in sweat from the small strike. He knew that the man was sick. Early stages of infection, it looked like. A fever and delirium. Next would come inflammation and, depending on what he had exactly, his limbs would rot.

"You're definitely going to send me to her," he said, chuckling to himself. "Guess it doesn't matter in how many boxes, though."

"It almost sounds like you want to die," the old man said, sitting down on a rotted stool in front of the chained man. He tapped his foot as he looked at the broken bird. His body was littered with scars, each one horrid and disgusting. Muscles that told the elder all he needed, that the middle-aged man before him lived a life of constant fighting.

"Nobody wants to die," the prisoner said, his strength flowing from his body. "And you won't be killing me without losing a hand or two, trust me about that..."

"Hmph..." the old man huffed, rising from the stool and going into a dark corner of the room, completely out of sight from the prisoner. He clapped his withered hands together.

From the darkness came two large, fat, bald men. They stunk worse than the cell itself. Their putrid, wretched smiles brought a cold ball of ice to the prisoner's gut. The smell was like rotting fish soaked in blood. It took the prisoner all he could to not vomit.

"Remove one of his eyes," the old man said coldly, as though asking for a cup of wine. "I never liked blue eyes. Take out one of them."

"_Damn it!_" the prisoner screamed in his mind as the large men waddle their way to him. "_Morgan, you screwed up!_"

The rusted tools of the torturers clanked and clattered as they rattled against the stone of the dungeon. Not even a rat could be heard. The aged hooks and knives inched their way closer. Morgan could not do a thing, hearing the old man leave the cell and him to be tortured. One of the fat men drug his knife across Morgan's chest, slicing his flesh open as it slid down. It wasn't a deep cut, but it stung enough for Morgan to scream.

"'Dis one's shawup!" the boulder of a man said, his mouth open in a grin that exposed his broken, necrotized teeth. His gums were a dark black, and what was left of his jaw line a yellow that reminded Morgan of corn.

A large, paw-like hand crushed Morgan's hand in its grip. His head was pinned in place as the knife slid closer and closer to his pupil. The other man giggled, standing next to his companion as Morgan fought against the hold. He kicked his legs as best he could, smacking them against the torturer's large gut. The other torturer grabbed a hold of his legs, pinning them against the wall. The knife hovered over his eye, sinking closer and closer. He felt the metal scrape his eyelid, causing him to struggle all the more.

"Quit yer fussin'!" the one holding his legs said. "Jus' let me brotha' d'ew 'is fhing."

All Morgan could remember before blacking out was the intense pain, and the light dimming in his right eye.

* * *

The girl huffed and puffed as she ran through the forest. The trees all looked similar, and she was convinced that she was lost. Despite that, she knew that she could not afford to break down and cry. She had to be brave. She was needed. In her small hand was a stone. One that she clenched her fist tightly around. Her long, sharp ears ached in the cold wind. Her lungs screamed at her for not being as physical as she needed to be.

But despite all of this, she still ran. She ran as a single name ran through her mind.

"_Morgan!_" the small, blonde girl's mind screamed. Her legs ached. Tears strolled down her face as the pain got to her. Her mind forced the pain away, knowing what had to be done.

"_Don't worry, Morgan! Nah's coming for you!_"

* * *

_A/N_

So yeah, Nah's a thing now. That's gonna be fun. XD

Also, Morgan is gonna get his ass kicked. Be thankful he's just losing is eye. The guy's not gonna make it through this story that easy. Not with me at the helm.

Also, I'm typing this at, like, 2 AM, so I'm sorry if it seems like shit. I'm super tired, but it's the only time I actually have to write anything.

Until Next Time!


	19. Chapter 19

_They played together in the field._

_It was large, open, filled with life. The flowers bloomed in the bright sun. The smell of cooked meat tickled their noses as they ran across the green. Grass licked their bare feet. The air was warm and relaxing. All had smiles as they skipped, galloped, and enjoyed themselves in that clearing. The earth was strong and untainted. The children giggled as the sun never seemed to lower._

_A blue haired girl raised a stick high in the air, foot on a decent sized rock to give her the look of a conquering hero. Her long, flowing hair was carried by the wind. To any who watched, she commanded the other three children there. A smaller girl with twin-tails as deep a blue as the other. Her face held a smile of pure joy and excitement, unable to hide the sparkles from her eyes either. Next to them was a little blonde girl, who clutched a small teddie bear. This child was the youngest of the group, clinging to her toy and amazed by anything the bigger children did. A strange thing about that girl was her ears. They stretched out and into the ear, as pointy as knives. They twitched in the open air, catching a breeze._

_And the only male amongst them was blue-haired boy. He smiled along with them, holding a thick textbook in his hands. His long, flowing purple robe barely fit him. It slipped beneath his feet, causing him to stumble when he walked. He always wore a cheesy smile, one full of bashfullness and optimism. He laughed along with his friends._

_"Alright, guys!" Twin-tails said, her hands high in the air. "Let's discuss our big plans for tomorrow! The League of Mini-Shepherds cannot screw up our big pitch to the others!"_

_"That is right, Lady Cynthia," the leader said, exposing the identity of the other bluenette. Her stick was still raised high in the air. She couldn't deny that her arm was getting tired, but she felt so cool like that._

_"Luuucy~!" Cynthia said with a pout, arms crossed across her chest. "You promised to use my hero name!"_

_"O-Oh," Lucy said, stammering and dropping her arm. She should have known better than to try and pull a fast one on her... even if the 'name' she picked was incredibly stupid. "I apologize..."_

_"You apologize to_ _who...?" Cynthia chirped, her smile a mile wide in anticipation. _

_Lucy sighed, knowing there was no way out if it._

_"I apologize, Ultra-Pony-Knight-Cynthia..." Lucy gagged as she spoke, hating her sister's flair for the dramatic._

_"Yay!" Cynthia cheered, startling the other two. "You're the bestest big sister ever!"_

_The boy felt the blonde clutch onto his leg, both of her tiny arms hanging onto his thigh for dear life. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, feeling the patronizing stares of his friends burrow down onto him. The male knew better than to try and pry off the small child. It would take four carriages and a giant to peel the girl from his limb._

_"Nah?" Cynthia asked, looking at the scene in wonder. Mostly the offended look on the child's face, frown thick on her face. "What's the matter?"_

_"M-Morgan better!" Nah said, her grammar not fully developed. She wore a pout as Lucy and Cynthia giggled to themselves. The blonde groaned, coming out more as a squeak._

_"Ahh," Lucy teased, laughing with Cynthia, "she likes you!"_

_"Please," the boy named Morgan begged. His face was a bright red. "Can we not talk about this...? It's so embarrassing..."_

_"Morgan's got a girlfriend~!" Cynthia sang, clapping her hands together. They cackled at the growing red on his face._

_"You guys suck," Morgan said, lashing out at the other bluenettes. "Why do I even hang out with you?"_

_"Because if you hang out with the other boys," Lucy explained, punching Morgan's shoulder lightly, "you'll be teased over how much you love your mother."_

_"Hey, Mother's great!" Morgan said, unable to really deny the accusation. They did make fun of him for being a Mama's Boy, but it wasn't like he avoided them for that! _

_"Besides," Cynthia said, running up and hugging Morgan, "you want to spend time with your sisters, don't you? Come on, don't try to hide it!"_

_Nah stood there in confusion, confused over what she had just heard._

_"Different mamas," Nah said, catching their attention. The trio looked down at the toddler, spotting the furrowed brow on her face. "Not same?"_

_"Oh..." Morgan said, rubbing his neck. "Right..."_

_"We have the same father," Lucy explained, dropping to a knee in front of Nah. "He is married to Cynthia and I's mother, but he sired a child with Morgan's before us."_

_"Morgan prince?" Nah asked, face bright and innocent. Her teddie squished against her tiny body._

_"No," Morgan said, cutting into the conversation. His eyes were dark and full of sadness. His voice oozed discomfort. It was obvious he wasn't a fan of the subject. "I was born after he married their mother."_

_An awkward silence filled the air around them. They always tried to avoid the story behind their parentage. It never ended well. All words were lost, and they had a bad feeling in their stomachs for the rest of the day. _

_"Sad?" Nah asked, tears brimming in her small eyes. She never meant to make them sad. She was just curious. A squeaking whine came from her throat, burying her face in her bear._

_"A little bit." Morgan said._

* * *

They approached the gate to the Feroxi homeland. It was a massive, stone monstrosity. Tall, gray towers surrounded by a gatehouse that pierced the sky. Snow draped the building, painting the gray a bright white. Few lanterns were placed across the walls of the checkpoint. Most were frozen over and turned into sticks of ice. Guards littered the outside of the keep, head to toe in thick leathers and armor. The sight impressed the Shepherds, all waiting for the gate to open and let them pass.

"Wow..." Sumia said, her steed parked next to Chrom's. The sight of the massive gate before them was one to behold.

"Got to hand it to the Feroxi," Chrom said, eyes scanning the beast as well. His hand stuck onto Robin's chest, allowing her to stay on the horse and enjoy the sights as well. "They're certainly not lacking in vanity."

"Halt!" A powerful voice boomed out before them. They looked to the top of the keep, seeing a woman in large, bulky armor. It was as if she wore the shell of a crab. In her arm, a spear shined in the sunlight. Her face held a look of a battle hardened soldier. "Who goes there!?"

"Chrom!" The man himself shouted to her. His arm waved back to the rest of their convoy. "The Shepherds need to talk to the Khan. It's about the Plegians."

"And how are we to know that you are the man you say you are, 'Chrom'?" The woman spat. Her tone worried the man, who clutched Robin against his body. "It is extremely possible that you are bandits wearing the guise of the Shepherds. Your trick won't work on me, cravens!"

"How dare you-!?" Frederick shot back at the skeptic.

"Frederick," Chrom interrupted, stunning the man. "I doubt that she's one to take threats lightly. We need a plan."

"We can't fight them all," Sumia said, looking to Chrom in worry.

"Well," Chrom said, shrugging his shoulders, "we need a way to avoid fighting them."

"Prove it," Robin said simply, looking up at Chrom. Her nose was a bright red, the cold attacking her small body. A tiny sneeze made Robin convulse, wiping her nose on her robe. She saw the brow on his face go up. "Show her you're Chrom."

"Right," Chrom said, his face darkening, "now I feel like an idiot." He turned to the guard, still staring at them from atop her perch. "What can we do to prove we're really the Shepherds?"

"If you truly are the fabled soldiers you claim to be," the guard began, her body tensing in the massive mountain of armor she wore. "You can defeat my men and I in open combat!"

"What!?" Chrom screamed, scowling at the crab-woman. "We can't fight here! We have a child with us!"

"I knew you were mere brigands!" The guard roared at them. "You intend to use a child as a hostage in order to gain passage into Feroxi? Bah! I won't allow it!" Her voice echoed across the snowy landscape around them. "MEN!"

Guards lined the checkpoint walls. Armor clanged and clattered in the cold air. Soldiers with bows and arrows aimed their weapons at the group of adventurers, ready to make them pincushions. Chrom felt his body go numb at the sight. They needed to run...

"Do not allow these imposters to reach this gate!" The commander screamed, slamming her spear into the ground. "Fight with all of your might!"

"Ah shit..." Chrom hissed, hearing their bows tense. The creak of the wood in the freezing air would haunt his nightmares, assuming he made it out of there.

"Arrows are ready, commander!" One of the guards told his superior, the woman who begun the conflict in the first place.

"Excellent," she said, raising her free arm in the air. "Now. FIRE!"

The arrows rained down from the sky, blotting out the sun.

"CHROM, LOOK OUT!"

* * *

Morgan's body burned. Sweat poured from his forehead. His skin was a flushed pink. The cool air of the forest helped somewhat. He gently lowered his head onto the strong, wooden bars of his cage. His right eye pounded. A horrid throbbing that made eels crawl through his gut. Utter darkness covered that half of his vision. He lifted a weak hand, his right, and touched the dirty bandage wrapped around his head and over that eye. The wound was still sensitive, stinging like a bite from an arrow. His lack of clothing helped with the fever, giving his body fresh air. The pale skin drank in the sun, being covered in black for all that time.

The trotting of the horses made his migraine worse. The wagon he sat in crawled along the dirt path, wood growling as they went on. Morgan coughed, his chest breaking apart in his body. His lungs turned to ash, his breath robbed from him.

"That arm ain't lookin' too good," one of his captors said, his horse trotting along with the wagon.

The man was right. Black spots speckled themselves across Morgan's left arm. The flesh turned sour on his body, reeking with a smell that made them all nauseous. His finger nails fell off long ago, the black rot taking the tips of his digits.

"It's... fine..." Morgan wheezed out. The dirty tools of the torturers no doubt poisoned his blood. Every day was filled with vomiting a dark bile, his brain burning in his skull, and losing more of his arm to that horrid blackness. The cough was getting worse.

"Think we gotta chop it off," the man said, a hand rubbing his chin. "We need you alive for when we deliver you. Double the bounty that way."

"Her... Excellence... wants... an example..." Morgan forced out, vision filling with spots. It was getting harder to keep his focus. His mind slipped further into a fever dream, eyes locking shut.

"We ain't going to Ylisstol," the hostage taker said, wet mud staining his once pristine armor. "The Mad King asked for you, and he wants you alive and well. Paying three tons of gold for your head."

"Doesn't matter..." Morgan hissed, mentally tricking his body into thinking he had more energy than he did. "You... are _not_ taking... my hand..."

"You're not in any condition to stop us," the man said, an evil smirk on his face. "You can't even move your head."

Morgan felt another coughing episode strike him. He writhed on the floor of his cage, body turning to glass as he coughed out more bile. A disgusting, bitter taste flooded his mouth. He couldn't stop himself from vomiting on the floor of the cage. The stench permeated around, clinging to Morgan's flesh.

"You're an old man far past his prime," the sadistic rider declared, his head craning to his friends. "I can't believe I was ever afraid of you as a boy! You're not a boogeyman, a 'legend', you're not even a rumor!"

Morgan felt his head go light. Darkness conquered his vision. His mind sank further and further into a fevered unconsciousness. Every part of his body was as light as a feather. As he was absorbed by the fever, a single name slid through his lips. It was the only one that ever made him happy anymore. A woman's name. A woman that would despise what he had become. A woman he promised to stay away from, no matter the cost. The woman he longed for with his entire being.

"Severa..."

* * *

A young woman marched across the desert. The heat blasted her with its full force. She wrapped her mask tight around her face. Sand whipped into her eyes, blinding her. She rubbed them as best she could, spitting out the grits that flew into her mouth.

"Groooosss~!"

She picked up her pace, hoping to get out of that desert as early as possible. Civilization was miles away. Not a single shop, inn, or so much as a farm was in sight. The woman huffed and puffed as she made her way through the ocean of sand. The powder flooded her boots. They were as heavy as anvils, slipping from her feet to be left at the mercy of the dusty death.

"I bet-*gasp*-if mother," she barked to herself, a face of rage painted on, "*gasp*-were doing this, she'd just-*gasp*-fly away like the genius she is!"

Her muscles fought against the heat and the sand. She needed to find her friends, and that outweighed whatever pain she suffered. It was too important. She needed to see them at least one more time. Just once would be enough.

The sun continued to bear down on her. Her long, twin-tailed, red locks of hair simmered in the dry heat of the desert. She licked her lips, both dry as as bones. Water felt like a distant memory. A familiar laugh played in her mind. It was a goofy, cheesy laugh that she hated. Her throat tightened when she heard it. Tears filled her eyes.

"_That's not fair..._" her mind weeped. That smile filled her psyche. All she could think about was that head of scraggly blue hair. "_You promised me you'd stay alive..._"

Droplets fell into the dry sand. The sun boiled them when they landed, puffs of steam floating into the air. Her voice cracked and broke, a mess of sobs. Only a single thought came to her amidst the chaos.

"_Morgan... you're a jerk..._"

* * *

_A/N_

THANK FUCK, I FINISHED THIS!

Long story short, I ended up typing this on my fucking PHONE. And it was the worst decision I ever made.

I lost FOUR FULLY WRITTEN VERSIONS OF THIS FUCKING THING BECAUSE OF RETARDATION ON THE DAMN THING'S PART! Four different versions, people!

Add that to it making the DUMBEST GRAMMAR CHOICES! FUCK IT, I'M DONE!

I'm writing these fucking things on my laptop, end of story. I refuse to fight with my phone anymore.

Until Next Time!


	20. Chapter 20

Morgan could still feel his fingers.

Pain shot through his arm, tickling his fingers as he moved the limb. He clenched and unclenched his fist. The warmth of his palm, the feeling of fingernail against skin, it was all still there. His nerves still talked to his brain.

The only problem was that he saw his arm on the ground, outside of his cage. The cold dirt painted the darkened limb black, the rot eaten away most of the flesh to the bone. His captors casually strolled past his removed appendage, leaving the old man to stare at the once attached part of his body.

Morgan's eyes drifted to what his arm had in place of a hand. It was wrapped tight in old, faded bandages. Browned blood stained the wrappings. The smell was gone, fresh air and relief filling Morgan's lungs. His fever passed, and his mind sharpened once again. He was able to think. He was able to escape.

"_Just need to wait,_" Morgan thought, keeping his only eye on the campfire his captors set up. The cold night provided nothing for the man. His body shivered and his mind sent imaginary figures to play in the shadows. Giggles of children played in his ears. Every voice mocked him. They tortured him with memories he rather wanted dead. Memories of playing with his sisters, memories of friends and family, memories of his mother.

"Mother..." he growled out. Morgan clenched his fist as the woman was painted in his mind. That long, white hair, a ponytail at the top while the rest flowed past her shoulders. Those soothing eyes that never seemed to open. He remembered her height, more than anything. She was a tall woman, putting it lightly. Like a lighthouse, she towered over most of the other Shepherds, certainly almost all of the women.

"_No... '_Robin_',_" he clarified in his mind. He ground his teeth as her laugh played in his mind. That once beautiful sound, like silver bells ringing, was a dog whistle, filling his mind with horrid emotions he couldn't force down. The scene was as fresh in his mind as the day he saw it.

The blood.

The dead.

The fire.

_Her_... _**laughing**_ as he clawed through mountains of corpses to get to her. To _kill_ her.

"You took everything..." he said aloud, eye wide and white. Smoke was thick in his nostrils. The pungent taste of rot stuck to his tongue. Blood drenched his flesh all over again. His sanity repaired itself, slowly but surely, when he left the future. The 'Gods' he dreamed of were gone. He still lived battle to battle, never leaving the killing. That was something that was never going to fade away. But that black, toxic feeling came back in full force. Inky darkness enraptured him. His heart pounded, trying to rip out of his chest.

His thoughts turned to his fri—_other '_Shepherds'. The children that had already left the future. Would they even recognize him? Would they have a tearful reunion? Fight for a better tomorrow together like what Lucina envisioned? Those long years alone, never knowing if he was going to die that day or not. Surrounded by Risen and memories that crushed his soul. Barely eating or sleeping. He spent so long hunting...

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

Morgan tore himself from his thoughts, seeing his kidnappers scattering around like rats. Clanging metal was mixed with screams. Bright bolts of lightning tore through the darkness, blinding Morgan's only eye. Hearty cheers made the old man freeze solid, a cold worse than the most brutal Feroxi winter took hold of his body. Especially when the attacks reached closer to the fire.

"Hark!" a young, brown-haired man shouted, a long sword steady in his hands. He posed with his hand over his eye, a confident smirk on his face. His hair was short, not even touching his ears. The clothes he wore were practical, but held the air of royalty. Like an expensive training suit. A pair of tan pantaloons and a yellow tunic that had a mist of red stained onto it. "You villains won't last the night against the mighty strength of Owain and Company!"

"Owain..." another male voice groaned. "I think you seriously need to rethink the whole 'hero' thing..."

"Silence, heretic Inigo!" the one known as Owain ordered, looking off into the darkness that was impossible to see for Morgan. "More soldiers are coming!"

"H-Heretic!?" Inigo stammered, shock clear in his voice. "Where'd that come fro-!?"

Another bolt of lightning flew through the air, lighting a nearby tree alight. In an instant, the once proud plant was a beacon in the darkness, fire glowing as bright as the sun itself. He saw the other man Owain talked to, his hair longer than the former's and a bright white. His outfit mimicked Owain's, only his had armor padding on his shoulder.

They scrambled after another bolt flew towards them. One of the captors held a thick spellbook, his hand blue with power. Morgan never knew he was a mage. The guy was always so private.

"Over here!" Owain shouted from behind a barrel, not even a lick of fear in his tone. "Aim your lightning towards a hero of true-! GAH!"

Owain fell from behind the barrel, clutching his hand to his chest. He writhed and wriggled on the ground, making melodramatic grunts and screams as the magic-user looked at him in confusion.

"M-My brand!" he vocalized, holding his hand up to the sky. "I-I'm losing control!"

"_He still does that...?_" Morgan thought, shaking his head. He needed to get out of that cage and away from those two before they saw him. Morgan doubted that they would actually recognize him, but they'd offer to help or lead him to town. He didn't want that for them. They didn't deserve the trouble that always followed him.

Morgan looked down at the chain that bound his legs and his right hand. They were old, rusting, and breakable now that his fever was gone. Morgan stomped onto the post built into the cage he sat in, the battle still raging around him.

"Watch out!" Inigo shouted, cutting down the mage as he prepared a fireball. A swift strike to the chest opened the floodgates, and red flew into the air. His sword was a sturdy silver, painted a light orange from the smeared blood.

Bows cracked, sending arrows to the duo as they fought. Owain parried one of the bandit's strikes, feeling his teeth rattle at the heavy blow. He sliced at the villain's legs, cutting into his chain-mail and deep into his thigh. He screamed, falling to the ground and clutching his leg as blood spurted freely. Owain's focus fell onto the cage that sat in the middle of the camp, seeing the cripple kicking at the post he was chained to.

Inigo cut one man's head clean off, going pale at the sight. His nerves had to take a backseat as another bandit threw himself at the young man, driving his axe into warrior's armored shoulder. The scrape of iron on iron made his bones shiver. Inigo drove his sword into the man's stomach, piercing him straight through. He fell to the ground as the dead bandit refused to release his sword, crumpling to the earth like a bag of meat. Inigo looked up just in time to see Owain staring off into the distance, to one of the prisoners the bandits had taken.

"Right!" Inigo shouted, pulling Owain back into the fight. Just as he announced, a vicious war-axe flew at Owain's head from the right side. He barely had enough time to drop to the ground before it embedded itself into the back of one of the bandits. It felt like whenever they finished one, two more took their place.

"Kill the brats!" a powerful voice demanded. Owain and Inigo turned their attention to a large, muscular man forcing his way through the band of bandits that looked ready to pounce as it was. His armor was a heavy leather, stinking like it was just cut from a bear's back, and just as hairy. The owner was bald, his head shining from the glow of the fire. "Boys! Let's rip these two apart and get back to work!"

His men cheered, raising their weapons to the sky. Their morale was high. A savage war-cry boomed from their throats. They were ready for war.

"This is bad," Inigo said, backing up from the rallied bandits. The two rubbed shoulders as they were pushed further. Both sides waited for the strike that would spark the conflict. That one attack that would send blood and sparks onto the earth.

"I think that I may have bitten off more than I can chew..." Owain said, still trying to sound 'heroic'. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. There were way more guys than what it looked like at first. Like, fifty more.

"Goodbye Rosita..." Inigo said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Goodbye Susan. Goodbye Marie..."

"Boss!" one of the bandits shouted.

Time froze as they all looked at the random trooper. There wasn't too much to say about him. He had no facial hair, no distinguishing features, not even so much as a scar. The only thing they could call him was 'that guy', since no one even remembered his name. In fact, there was only really one thing they could tell that was different about him.

And that was the fact that he was on fire.

The everyman bandit howled in agony as flames licked the flesh from his bones. His chain-mail armor melted into his skin, furthering his agony. He desperately patted the fire, trying to put it out. However, his shrieks and screams died down as he fell to the ground. The crackling fire continued as a figure stepped from the shadows. His torso was stained in red, a red spell-book clenched tightly in his hand. Only a single eye scanned the crowd, focusing onto Owain and Inigo.

Both boys saw the aged warrior only had one arm, a dirty, bloodied bandage where his left should have been. It was cut off at the elbow, haunting the two to look at it. But what terrified them the most was the look he had. That one eye held horrors beyond their understanding. A single moment spent meeting his gaze made them sick to their guts.

"H-He's loose!" one of the bandits screamed, turning to the stranger and readying his weapon.

"Who's 'loose'?" Owain asked his partner, whispering into Inigo's ear. His only answer was a confused shrug of the shoulders.

"You boys run," the man said to them.

"Wh-What about you?" Inigo asked, keeping his eyes on any wannabe heroes in the bandit mob.

"I've been killing for over thirty years," the... _blue-haired _man explained. Where had they seen that before...?

"Heroes don't abandon those in need!" Owain chanted proudly, pounding a fist to his chest.

"I'm not a hero," the man said simply, shaking his head. "Just a man too stupid and angry to realize he's already got both feet in the grave."

"He was referring to-"

"I know who he was talking about, Inigo," the stranger interrupted, stunning the young man. The white-haired boy stared in awe, mind-boggled. How did he know his name!? That blue hair mocked him all the more. It was discolored, only a few bundles of hair showing off that distinctive color. The rest was a darkened, ash gray. Still, the small bushels of blue that was there stabbed into Inigo's brain. He fought for a memory, but none were willing to show themselves.

"_Wait..._" Inigo thought, his heart skipping a beat. His world froze once again as the realization struck him harder than a war-hammer. The crippled man gave a knowing look to Inigo. It held sorrow and familiarity. Inigo nodded to the elder, placing a hand on Owain's shoulder.

"We have to go," he said to his shocked friend. Owain lowered his sword, mouth agape. Inigo said nothing, merely curling his mouth into a sad smile.

"What are you talking about-!?"

"Owain," Inigo cut in, silencing his partner. "There's nothing for us here."

The other boy looked to the ground, scattering for an excuse to stay. To fight. Owain looked to the crippled man, trying to spot what Inigo did in him. Nothing came to mind. Not even so much as a speck in his brain came to understand the situation. The bandits stared at them with hunger in their eyes. They wanted to taste blood, to tear their flesh apart, to fight until the last breath.

"Fine..." Owain hissed out, a scowl on his face. "Let us chase glory to another battle, my friend!"

The two ran off into the night, several bandits following close behind. Three were instantly set alight, burning to ash before collapsing to the ground. The rest looked back to Morgan, hand in flames as the spell-book rested on the ground, flipped open. Four managed to escape his spells, pursuing Owain and Inigo into the forest. Bandits still surrounded Morgan, weapons at the ready. He knew he wouldn't win. But that wasn't important.

"_At least those idiots got away..._"

"Now," Morgan said, turning his gaze to the thugs around him. "Are we gonna stand around all night, or are we gonna fight?"

* * *

"CHROM LOOK OUT!"

Back at the Feroxi checkpoint, the situation went from bad to worse.

Arrows rained from the sky in a shower of death. Soldiers fell to the ground, turned into human pincushions by the arrows. The white snow was stained red. Screams shredded the tranquil atmosphere around them. Horses reared in panic. Men cried in agony as they fell victim to the barrage.

Chrom was lucky enough to avoid the pelting, high in the sky on top of Sumia's pegasus. He watched the attack in awe, arms wrapped around his savior's midsection and holding on for dear life. A burning anger built inside of him, watching his people getting decimated. The commander responsible for the bloodbath was all his thoughts were filled with. She needed to pay for the slaughter.

"You alright?" Sumia asked, craning her neck to look at Chrom. Every flap of her steed's wings sent her hair flying in the air. It would take a lot of brushing to fix the mess on her head. "Chrom!"

"Yeah!" he shouted, staring at the other Shepherds running for cover.

Lissa threw herself behind the storage cart, arrows embedded into the thick wood. Frederick followed Lissa close behind, shielding her back with his own armored one. An arrow pierced the metal, stabbing Frederick's shoulder blade. He roared at the pain, clutching the wound after making it behind the cart. Blood ran down his arm, leaking through his gauntlet and painting the snow.

"Fr-Frederick!" Lissa shrieked, staying low and inspecting the wound. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear. Her hands shivered, barely holding her staff properly. Shredding fabric made her all too aware that arrows flew past the cart, tearing her skirt to ribbons as they whizzed in the cold air.

"I'm fine," Frederick huffed, clenching his jaw. He pulled at the arrow in his left shoulder, meeting resistance from the Feroxi design. The tip was barbed, making removing it all the more dangerous.

"Do-Don't pull it!" Lissa demanded, dropping into the snow to avoid a volley that snapped near her blonde head. "Just leave it. You'll bleed too much if you pull it out!"

Frederick nodded, resting on the back of the cart. The thick, wooden barrels and crates took a majority of the attack. They felt confident enough in their cover to stay put and wait for it to end. Frederick clenched his fist as blood flooded his glove. The hot, copper-scented fluid flowed down his back.

Stahl and Sully were having their own issues with the assault. Their horses reared back, sending them to the snow covered ground. The sudden burst of cold made Stahl jump to his feet, screaming at the shock. His sword stayed tight in his hand, ready for a fight. He held a gauntlet to the air, hoping to block an arrow from going through his skull. Cover seemed impossible for him. The horses were long gone, and the carts were twenty feet away.

"Get down, you moron!" Sully shouted, tackling him into the snow as another wave of arrows flew towards them.

The two bolted as fast as they could to the wall of the Ragna Ferox checkpoint, hugging the gray stone as arrows flew around them. They watched the onslaught from the blind-spot, arrows littering the earth. The once empty mass of rock and snow became like a field of wheat, the feathers on the ends of the arrows blowing in the wind.

"What do we do?" Stahl asked, turning to Sully. The cracks of the bows flooded his ears. It was next to impossible to hear anything else.

"We wait for these arseholes to lose the arrows!" Sully commanded, facing Stahl with a confident smirk. "Then we get up there and introduce our boots to their skulls!"

"Right," Stahl said, nodding. Despite the red woman's tone, he found it hard to gather much hope. The arrows rained down endlessly. No matter how many flew at their friends, the torrent never ended.

Miriel was lucky enough to have carried a spell-book with her. She held her right hand, reading from the text aloud. The arrows turned to butterflies around her, a bright pink bubble shielding her, and one rather annoying ally.

"I swear," Virion said, holding his bow and arrow close. He watched the tools of war vanish into clouds of monarchs and a bright blue species he couldn't name. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. "You are quite the amazing woman, Miriel my dear."

"Silence," Miriel said, returning to the text on the book. She muttered the incantation fast, line after line. Her glasses glowed in the light of the shield, covering her eyes. "I must not lose concentration, else the barrier will cease to exist."

"Right," another voice piped in, causing the aqua-blue-haired-man to yelp in panic. Virion turned his attention to a strange bowl-cut-haired man in a massive suit of armor that mimicked the attacking commander's.

"I must ask," Virion said, turning to the strange figure. "Who are you?

"I'm Kellam?" he said, confusion on his calm face. He scratched his head with one of his massive armored gloves, clanking and clamoring all the while. "I've been talking to you guys for the last ten minutes."

"I assure you that I've never seen you before in my entire life," Virion persisted. He lightly stamped his foot, insisting his claim.

Kellam sighed, looking down into the snow.

"Yeah..." he said, sad acceptance in his tone. "Should have expected that."

Vaike was having his own problems. He not only forgot his axe again, but he caught more than a single arrow. Two in his shoulders, each, and one in his left bicep. He ran as fast as he could through the hailstorm, clutching a small mass against him.

"Kid!" he shouted, feeling another arrow bite into his back. "You better be worth it!"

An arrow went through his thigh, sending him into the white powder. He fell hard on his back, driving the arrows there deeper into his flesh. Vaike howled in pain, blood spilling from his lips. He rolled onto his front, cradling the purple-garbed child to his chest. She stared out into the snow, eyes wide and empty. blood trickled from her nose. a thick stream poured down her tiny face. She muttered something too fast and too quiet for the muscle-bound blonde to hear clearly. But that didn't matter considering the cloud of arrows, tips sharp and horrifying, spinning in the air as they fell from the sky. Another round was prepared before the last even landed.

"_Damn... this is gonna hurt!_" Vaike thought, forcing his eyes shut.

More arrows sailed towards them. He could hear the snap of the string. The whistle as they sliced the air. The hiss as they dropped closer. Every second was an eternity long.

Only they never came.

Vaike peeled his eyes open. He craned his head, seeing a sight beyond all understanding in front of him.

"What the..."

* * *

The ride was cold, dark, and far too long.

Lucina shivered atop her steed, clutching her thick, brown fur coat against her. Her nose was a bright red, irritated by the merciless wind. Flakes fell all around her, glittering in the night sky.

"You alright, Lucy?" Cynthia asked, a black coat for her. She held the opposite of her sister. The cold had barely an effect on her. At most, she saw her breath fog the air in front of her, but that was the most extreme example she could think of.

"I-I'm fine..." Lucina assured her, rattling in the cold wind. She had to put her discomfort aside. What would happen next was far too important.

"Are you sure?" Cynthia persisted, an eyebrow raised. "I remember that you were never good with the cold. You kept getting sick when we played in the snow."

"Be-Because you would for-force me out for ho-hours!" Lucina snapped, her face a bright red. On the positive side, her blush warmed her cheeks.

"Well now you don't have a choice," Cynthia said with a bright smile. "We still have two days until we reach the capital, so don't go getting a cold on me!"

"I-I'll try..." Lucina said, body shaking just as bad.

"Try to think about something else," her sister offered, looking up to the cloudy sky. Not even an inch of it was uncovered, the stars hidden by the gray puffballs in the sky. "Like... ooh! Mother's pies!"

"Cynthia..." Lucina said, rubbing her temple.

"They were always so flaky and warm~..." Cynthia continued. She practically melted on top of her horse. "You remember when I snuck into the kitchen the night before your birthday and ate half of the blueberry pie she made you?"

"Wh-When was that again?" Lucina asked, a small smile growing on her face. She wanted to chuckle, but curiosity overwhelmed her.

"It was your ninth birthday," Cynthia said, nostalgia in her voice. "I remember the morning after. Father was so angry at me, I was too afraid to leave my room for weeks!" She giggled at the memory, hearing her sister join in.

"Oh right," Lucina realized, smacking herself for forgetting. "I chased you around the castle for hours. What was you kept saying?"

"'_It's Mother's fault for making it too yummy!'_" Cynthia answered, cackling as she spoke. "Everyone was so confused."

"Right!" Lucina said in excitement, feeling a warmth build in her chest. It was a nice distraction from the frigid air. "Gerome and Kjelle tried so hard to hold me back when I finally cornered you."

"And I'm thankful for that every day," Cynthia said smugly, winking at her sister. "If they didn't keep you distracted, I wouldn't have been able to get away."

"Father still tanned your behind that night," Lucina retorted, just as smug. "You were still crying about it for days."

"Please don't remind me..." Cynthia said, rubbing her butt with a hand.

"What was it Morgan said?" Lucina chirped suddenly, confusing her younger sibling. She stared straight ahead, not bothering to look at Cynthia's confused face.

"Hm?" Cynthia asked, eyebrow raised.

"Morgan," Lucina clarified, turning her head to Cynthia. "He said something that day. I can't for the life of me remember."

They were both silent. A darkness weighed them down, crushing their spines. Neither could find any words. Their half-brother was a memory that they could barely find any shred of. They fought so hard to forget about him that now when they wanted to remember him he was gone.

"How long to Ragna Ferox again...?" Lucina asked, her a lump hard in her throat.

* * *

_Fire consumed the city around him._

_Entire homes of lumber and stone were burnt to nothing but cinder and ash._

_People screamed as the armies of the dead descended upon them. Flesh was torn and devoured. Blood spilled and slurped into maws of broken teeth._

_Streets were filled with death and fire. The sky a dark red. A horrid beast flew high in the air, flapping its dreaded wings, creating gusts of wind more powerful than any storm. Its scales were as hard as diamonds, breaking every arrow, spear, or even spell thrown at it. A roar rippled the earth around it. Tremors shook the Earth as every building collapsed around the young man. His blue hair was pulled back by the wind, barely clinging to his skull at that speed._

_Morgan flew through the desolate town on his horse. The mare screeched in pain as Morgan snapped the reigns and kicked her ribs as much as he could. He looked to the castle in the distance. It was large, towering over him at the short distance he was away from it. The shadow it created loomed large over Morgan, pushing him into the stone road. But another sight grabbed his attention._

_The massive dragon that belted its mighty screech; resting on top of the grand castle._

_Morgan clenched his sword tight in his hand. He tried as best he could to push the screams from his mind. The wails of the townsfolk as the legions of the undead came. The shrieks of children running as they lost their families. The rupturing buildings as livelihoods were shattered in just a few short seconds._

"Just kill the dragon..._" he repeated in his mind. "_Just kill it, and everything will go back to normal._"_

_He knew that was false hope. Too much had happened. Too many people were already gone._

_Chrom, Sumia, Frederick, Lissa, Cordelia, Lon'qu, Nowi, Miriel, Virion, Tharja, all of the Shepherds. All of them were dead. His mother included._

_Morgan clung to the hope that his mother still lived. She had only disappeared during the war, never confirmed being killed. His friends fought as hard as they could against the Risen. He clenched the reigns of his horse, tears spilling down his face. Morgan fought himself; trying to keep it together._

_War had taken a toll on the young man._

"_N-No!" he screamed to himself, shaking his head. Morgan raised his head back to the dragon. "Grima..." he whispered. Fear took control of his system; hands shivering uncontrollably. Morgan took a deep breath, releasing it slowly._

_The horse galloped further. Her master was not aware of the horrors he would see. All he could do was shout out a single statement, sword held high in the sky._

"_Mother!" Morgan proclaimed, slicing a Risen's head clean off as he rode. Confidence swelled his being. "I'll save you!"_

* * *

_A/N_

So I finally got a decently lengthed chapter out.

Yay for me.

Also, you may notice how much Morgan gets the shit kicked out of him. That's not just me being a dick to him. It's a thematic thing I'm doing. It'll literally take you two seconds to guess what it is. And speaking of Morgan, he actually got to meet some future kids!

Only the happy reunion didn't last too long...

You may also see the setup for a pretty wicked thing. That's gonna be fun.

And poor little Robin didn't get to talk just yet. ;-;

Don't worry, it's coming. The pizzas are coming! (That was a South Park reference)

Until Next Time!


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